


hyperplanes

by setrevuo



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Robots & Androids, Class Differences, Dubious Science, Dystopia, Exes, Existential Crisis, Found Family, Friendship/Love, Happy Ending, Light Angst, M/M, Mad Scientists, Moral Ambiguity, Mutual Pining, Rivalry, Social Issues, Workplace Relationship, past Lee Taeyong/Suh Youngho | Johnny
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-02
Updated: 2020-09-02
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:54:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 40,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25943911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/setrevuo/pseuds/setrevuo
Summary: Between all of society’s flaws, two humans try to find where they stand together.It must be nice to be them, Doyoung thinks. Must be nice tofeel, fully and freely and unrestricted from their own manufactured design.
Relationships: Jung Yoonoh | Jaehyun/Kim Dongyoung | Doyoung
Comments: 61
Kudos: 90
Collections: jaedo digest: vol. 2





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: "Doyoung, a secret agent or a spy from a rival company, sets out to destroy or steal Dr. Jung's research on androids. However, upon entering the doctor's office, Doyoung sees a picture of him and Jung on the doctor's desk."
> 
> The (brief) non-graphic violence in this fic includes the following, so **please** make sure to read through this list before continuing!
> 
> -Explosions  
> -Guns and gun violence  
> -Kidnapping  
> -Psychological trauma

Doyoung stands outside, surrounded by the visceral heat that permeates through the city streets. Massive nano-concrete high rises stretch upwards for a mile, their tops disappearing into pinpoint pricks as they loom overhead. Droids pepper the street’s walkways, chrome humanoids perfectly designed for their specific functions, existing only to work and working only to survive. 

_Be careful,_ reads the new incoming message floating in front of Doyoung's eyes.

 _As if I’ve_ ever _been caught_ , he mentally sends back through the private comms.

_God, who gave you such a big head?_

The rhetorical humor of a creator. 

At the moment, Doyoung is in front of one particular building identified with a giant, quietly buzzing sign in arrogant neon.

Talos Industries.

In his head, auxiliary streams from a thousand different locations above flood his interceptor. He waits for an opening. His internal clock ticks. A precise movement of a chess piece, a simulated analysis of the proposed path, and then it's time. 

And Doyoung is flying up, through the vertical tiers as silently as his sleek, airborne bodysuit allows. 

Within the blink of an eye, he passes the lowest tier, the dark, soot-filled Dredges, and is then waving his way through the next tier: the dusty-toned layer of Kaffe, beginning around fifty floors above ground. Tightly congested apartments protrude from the existing building structures, a haphazard fashion of cubicles performing a balancing act, as the middle class's population increases with no room to grow but sideways. Doyoung zips past clothes hanging out to dry on a maze of wires. The people by their windows or on their balconies miss his sighting by a fraction of a second, having turned or blinked at the exceptionally right time.

He flies the entire mile to the top, all the way to Crème. The highest tier. Home to the most highly guarded floors and holding those who thought the highest of themselves. He easily steals into the building through its air filtration system, without as much as disrupting a single soul, not even the ones precariously perched on a bird's nest out on the windowsill. 

_Personal vertical acceleration record, beaten_ , Doyoung sends with a grin, pleased with himself.

_That was unnecessary._

_Much like this chat?_

_Wait Doyoung don't you fucking dare disconn-_

Doyoung can help catch the doctor up after the mission. Being the personally developed spybot of an eccentric genius has its perks.

On the one hand, Doyoung could treat his human as if he speaks the word of god, without the droid's own judgment clouding the incoming commands. That's the typical human's expectation towards droids, anyway.

But Dr. Kim isn't the typical human. The doctor's at the forefront of cutting-edge development towards emotional realism. And that, supplied with his narcissistic streak, had convinced the doctor to mimic parts of his own personality when he designed Doyoung. This only further accentuated the spybot's basic trait of absolute perfectionism. So, of course Doyoung would take the doctor’s jab to heart. And of course he'd aim to maintain his assignment success rate out of pure spite, if nothing else.

 _Pride._ It’s a human emotion, but only one of a plethora that Doyoung has been programmed with. 

As for why the doctor also created Doyoung as a _visual_ replica of himself, he can only guess. Doyoung thinks designing him might be the doctor’s way to show off his looks to the world twice over, to both Crème and to the Dredges.

Dr. Kim has a bit of an ego. And frankly, Doyoung gets it.

So, during these operations high up in Crème, Doyoung makes sure to hide himself. For here is where the richest live, at the top of the earth, the chosen few of the planet’s various critters. Out these windows, their skies are still blue and the natural air is forever breathable. If Doyoung is compromised, he wouldn’t be the only one to suffer the consequences.

He knows what's at stake for this mission. 

This laboratory is the workplace of the esteemed synthetic biologist, Dr. Jung, after all.

The air ducts are tight, the pipes eventually forcing Doyoung to slide forward on his stomach. He uses muted boosters that open up on the soles of his feet to maneuver forward, inching quietly so as to not raise the alarm from the passing rooms below. The faintest light from the corner catches his eyes as he makes a turn. Up ahead, he spots the source of the light and his final destination.

Padded feet land gently on plush carpet. Doyoung blinks, and his green pupils glow a pulsing fluorescent, activating night mode.

The office wouldn’t have looked out of place about a hundred years ago. Thick drapes shroud the chamber in near-pitch darkness aside from a lone candle. A massive mahogany desk anchors the setting at the room’s center, its wood now only obtainable by those with bottomless pockets from the revolving greenhouse satellites. Bookshelves line the walls from end to end, propped with prized historical artifacts, portraits of fading, famous has-beens, and actual books made of paper. Just one of these possessions could value at a price covering a Kaffe human's living expenses for an entire year. 

The android can't help but roll his eyes. For a doctor specializing in research on the imitation of life, Dr. Jung yearns for the real thing in all the wrong ways.

Doyoung reverts to the matter at hand. Standing in front of the desk, he concentrates as delicate fingers traverse the doctor’s computer. Files are decrypted in milliseconds and then encrypted using the android’s own key, before being uploaded into Doyoung’s memory. The mission only calls for Dr. Jung’s latest research findings. But Doyoung opts to go above and beyond, as he does, and copies over the entirety of the doctor’s files, personal and all. 

He’s nearly done when his hearing picks up footsteps coming down the hallway and approaching the closed office door. Doyoung would’ve made it in any other circumstance. But by chance, he spares a glance on one particular framed photo on the doctor’s desk.

If androids had stomachs, Doyoung’s would’ve done a flip.

In the photo is a reasonably handsome man that Doyoung presumes to be Dr. Jung. And next to him, with an arm casually thrown over the shoulder, is someone with a face Doyoung finds eerily too familiar.

Doyoung doesn't make mistakes. Except, at that moment, he pauses for a second too long. It's Dr. Kim in the photo. 

But that's not what makes Doyoung slow down. His own face looks back at him, and it’s somehow brighter, fuller, more complete than the one Doyoung's seen in the mirror. The doctor here looks younger, with crinkled doe-eyes glinting with a slyness, as if daring for life to take his happiness away. It’s a sort of foreign, layered expression that Doyoung hasn’t seen on his own face before. And it makes him curious, because Doyoung's database on human emotions is supposed to be as comprehensive as it gets, and he needs to prove that superlative.

For a moment, for a long blip in his processing threads, he puts aside his one-track mind to perfectly complete the assignment. 

In that blip, Doyoung tries to feel _that_ way _._

He feels for that foreign emotion etched on that face in the photo, on his own face. Emotional realism goes hand in hand with creativity, so he tries to do just that. He imagines a being in his head. Deems it to be his partner. He then searches through his inbuilt archives, and cross-references against his own experiences that he carefully curated during the months he’s been sentient to theoretically duplicate that feeling. He gives himself the illusion of a past he never had. But the search fails to find that exact emotion. Something special at his core is missing, he realizes. And it’s not one that can simply be mocked into reality. 

A sudden pang of loss that he's never felt before roots him to the ground. The feeling of ineptitude burns into him like a searing mark.

Doyoung's not perfect. He never was.

The door opens to reveal a silhouette of the office’s owner, an indiscernible shadow surrounded by a halo of light from the hallway behind him. The new figure pauses, mouth agape as he squints into the darkness at two briefly glowing orbs of green. He turns to pad at the wall for a switch. The room's curtains flourish open. The chamber is immediately engulfed in sunlight. 

Dr. Jung turns back around, and the office is empty. 

  
  


↭

  
  


When he descends to ground level, Doyoung welcomes the endless thrumming of the metallic cityscape around him. The grid is teeming with life, or life for synthetic creatures like Doyoung, rather. 

As for the few humans who also call the Dredges their home, their association is not so endearing. Heat hangs low and heavy between the skyscrapers, rising to blistering temperatures half the year and open to the frigid cold of space the other half. The air has been contaminated years earlier, breathable only for an hour at most, now infused with the dangerous radiation that has still been decaying from old, quashed rebellions.

But none of this poses a threat for the droids. They're built to withstand the extreme climate down below, since only the limitless supply of nuclear energy can sustain them. Around Doyoung, this very energy flows through a dazzling interconnected structure of servers and data centers. It’s a pleasant reminder that Doyoung's home. Home, a place for some who don masks elsewhere to be able to shed them off and decompress into their most vulnerable states. 

So naturally, now that he's in the safety of the Dredges, all he’s feeling at the moment is like _shit._

See, he was built to perfectly mimic human emotion. But the emotional recognition gap he just faced hasn't happened before, and experiencing a flaw in his design disappoints him in a way that prompts him to delay his status update with the doctor. Right now, his system has slowed down his analytic thinking, so the uptick in processing speed confuses him.

His system has a repository of emotions mapped to techniques for counteracting negative feelings, and this one is new. 

_Anxiety_ , Doyoung’s remaining processing units helpfully chime in a descriptor for this new feeling. Doyoung isn’t a fan, he files under it. Until he’s cooled down to face the doctor, he decides to make a rendezvous to a place of familiarity.

  
  
  


Droid cafes are used among bots of all levels of technology. Their forms of pick-me-ups range from simple recharges (their official functionality), to shell replacements to feature upgrades to software patches (all questionable and illegal, since they overlap services provided by corporate hospitals). Doyoung had originally stumbled into this particular cafe shortly after coming into sentience.

The lit sign shines a bright pink, flooding the smog-darkened street. It’s a nostalgic factor more than anything, since droids can pick up on establishment IDs through virtual means. The cafe owner once told Doyoung that it’s for the humans. Humans haven’t entered this droid neighborhood in decades, but Doyoung understood the concept of wishful thinking not to question it.

“Kill me,” Doyoung groans out loud the moment he steps inside.

A smaller, clunky android rotates his head, zeroes his dark visuals on the target, and charges at Doyoung, landing a punch square in his chest. Doyoung blinks. He then wordlessly falls down to a fetal position, holding his caved chest in injury.

“Androids can’t be killed, Mark. Only destroyed,” sings the cafe’s only other patron, another android as he strolls up to the two, hands in his corduroy pockets. He’s visibly more technologically advanced, with a calming demeanor and a perpetually serene tone. Yet, the softness around the edges doesn’t quite make it to his crystal blue eyes. He pats Mark’s head with a smile before casting an indifferent glance at the crumpled Doyoung on the floor. "Terrible word choice. You deserved that, you know."

"Always a pleasure to see you, Yuta," Doyoung hisses through grit teeth.

Mark takes a few seconds to process the first droid's words. No other clue on his stoic face has evidence of his thoughts. “Thank you for this information. I understand that Doyoung misspoke. Perhaps he’s broken.”

“Perhaps even more so now, after your attack.” The cafe owner who had earlier been busy back in the kitchen now slides over the counter with ease and approaches the three. “What did we say about hurting our friends?” 

“I apologize, Taeyong.” Mark looks down, displaying guilt. “I will ignore Doyoung’s pleas to be killed from now onwards.” 

Taeyong looks the most exceptional of the three, both physically and at a programmatic level. He wears a simple button-down with a stark white apron and appears nearly human, but appearances can be deceiving. Emotions are the most easily readable on his face, but as with all androids, there’s still an uncanniness with just how human a layer of prosthetic skin over metal can become. His bright pink pupils catch a passing light, glinting as he scoops Doyoung up in a bridal position. 

“I can handle myself,” Doyoung chokes out between static shocks. Not for the first time, he wishes Dr. Kim could’ve at least created him without the emotion of _physical agony_.

Taeyong ignores the request for the preservation of dignity and carries Doyoung into the cafe’s kitchen, whose automated doors slide shut behind them with a quiet, pneumatic hiss. Inside, he lays Doyoung flat on a long, metallic table.

Doyoung strains to lift his head to see the damage but Taeyong's hand firmly pushes Doyoung's shoulder back down.

“Unhelpful,” Taeyong chides. 

Sensing defeat, Doyoung stops fidgeting and lets his torso be disrobed. Taeyong opens Doyoung’s chest cavity and begins making minor adjustments with practiced efficiency. 

Done rewriting the internal circuitry, Taeyong dusts his hands and breaks the silence. “So, why do you wish to end your existence today?”

“I wasn’t perfect.” Doyoung stares at the ceiling.

Taeyong raises a brow. “And why is that?” 

“I have a gap in my emotional knowledge.”

“Dr. Kim has misjudged your necessary abilities for this assignment, that’s all,” Taeyong says with a finality, as if it is an open-and-shut case. He walks over to his shelves and finds a heat protective mask. Carrying Doyoung’s chest hull, he moves to another table, where welding machinery is on standby.

Doyoung wirelessly transfers a clip of his memory to Taeyong. “I was almost compromised while trying to process this photo.”

Taeyong hums, but doesn’t pause his welding. He scans the city’s security cameras from years ago, along with the humans’ internet communications and their medical logs and comes to a succinct backstory. “A covert affair from years prior, no doubt to hide Dr. Jung’s prestige in the Crème. Was this analysis difficult to process?”

“It isn’t the people in the photo. It’s their emotions.”

“Ah.”

Although Doyoung has never pried for Taeyong's past, it's been obvious since day one that the abandoned android's former owner had to have been of exceptional status and wealth. Taeyong's emotional response stimuli is of the highest tier among droids that Doyoung's met, and Doyoung can be sure that if any droid can help with questions on human behavior, it must be Taeyong. Doyoung continues, “I couldn’t replicate those emotions.”

Taeyong scrunches up his nose. “One can’t easily replicate that emotion on a whim, not without ever having had a partner to express it towards.” He carefully replaces Doyoung’s chest hull and picks up the painting tools to clean up the skin prosthetics. “And besides, love isn’t a must for a perfect being.”

“It might not be a must, but it certainly looks appealing.”

“Sure, but it comes with other emotions. It’s a package deal, and it’s not all pretty.”

“I don’t care,” Doyoung huffs in exasperation. “Dr. Kim has let me feel so many other ugly feelings. But why didn’t he just create me with those emotions, too? What was his goal in keeping them unattainable?”

“Trying to understand humans is dangerous. They are highly unpredictable creatures, and making conjectures will only lead to disappointment.” As emotive as Taeyong can be, he also has the capacity to remain straight-faced if he so wishes. It’s a trait Doyoung could make proper use of if he had it. Taeyong steps away, allowing Doyoung to sit up.

“Agreed,” Yuta announces his entrance as he strides into the kitchen. Mark follows behind him. “Humans are a disappointment.”

“Customers are not allowed in the kitchen.” Taeyong immediately straightens. “No exceptions.”

Yuta sits on one of the counters and pointedly looks at Doyoung before turning to Taeyong again. Taeyong slouches with a sigh and asks, “Do you need something?” 

“Speak some sense into Mark, will you?” Yuta picks up a small contraption with mild interest. “He’s asking if he ought to be decommissioned because you yelled at him.”

“I didn’t _yell_ —” Taeyong closes his mouth, deciding it is in his better interest to not take the bait. He asks Mark instead, gently, “Why do you think you should be decommissioned?”

“Because my performance with Doyoung was subpar.”

“Your performance was excellent. You understood a complex droid’s behavior and you were able to update your critical thinking skills. You did very well today.”

“But I broke protocol. I injured a droid.”

“In your defense, he _was_ using human idioms in a droid environment. And," Taeyong lightly jabs a finger into Doyoung’s waist, making him flinch. "Making mistakes every now and then can be useful. It’s what helps you improve.”

“Plus?” Yuta adds, “Let’s not forget to mention how _nobody’s_ critique of your performance can _ever_ be the deciders for your decommissioning.”

“Except my employers,” Mark nods. 

“God, those _bastards_.” 

Yuta’s angry words rarely carry the emotion they portray, with his voice always carrying a calming cadence. Instead, the best he can do is to relay his feelings with words, rather than tone. As a family bot, most upsetting emotions are not wired into his system. To make up for his deficiency, he resorts to his excellent abilities in picking up human behavior, aided by the unfiltered human child within his employed family. As a side effect, his own speech is then picked up by lower programmed droids, who carefully curate Yuta's new words into their lexicon.

“Bastards,” Mark repeats, much to Taeyong’s annoyance.

Yuta hops off the counter and places a hand over his chest. “Don’t worry, Mark. I’ll get you out of there one day.”

“Mhmm,” Doyoung grins. “Right after you make your own great escape?” 

“Don’t get me started,” Yuta says. “You’re lucky you don’t have to deal with a human child. What I’d do to replace my time spent with that brat with this _angel_ instead.” 

“Am I the angel?” Mark innocently points to himself and Yuta does all he can to not cry, which, honestly isn’t that hard at all for a droid. But he still makes a scene of holding his chest and dabbing at his cheeks, making the other two share looks with obliging smiles.

This wasn’t the first he’d felt this emotion, _happiness._ Seeing these droids that Doyoung’s become familiar with also brings about a certain positive emotion in him. It’s not the same kind of positivity as what Doyoung saw in the photo, but it’s wonderful in its own right. 

There’s something about the force of habit. If you're accustomed to someplace, to someone and you've witnessed over and over again that they don't harm you, it's only a matter of efficiency to gravitate towards them. It's not unlike the same feelings of home. Here in this cafe and around his friends is where Doyoung can lower his security shields and conserve energy. It's a good feeling, one of repeated patterns and rhythms. The feeling stabilizes him, grounds him. 

But Dr. Kim’s emotions from the photo are still etched in Doyoung’s mind, and he wishes he could feel those, too. 

  
  


↭

  
  
  


“How much of you did he see?”

“The pupils.”

Dr. Kim clicks his tongue, seemingly unaffected and reverts back to the file transfer.

The lab is nothing more than a repurposed central subway station, with stairwell entrances leading down from the street. Once teeming with travelers, the station became abandoned centuries prior. The walls and floors remain as exposed concrete, and a siphoned nuclear plant provides the electricity for lighting and equipment. The paths leading to the tracks have been blocked off by a massive screen displaying the city’s map, with underground droid hospitals marked.

Sunlight down here is nonexistent. Yet, an assortment of plants line the perimeter of the commander’s station in the lab’s center, thriving under specialized lights and the care of a meticulous owner. 

“But I was compromised, the operation-” Doyoung begins.

"It's _fine_ ," Dr. Kim waves a hand in the air from his desk. Doyoung observes the doctor’s expression. The jagged scar that runs through one eyebrow moves as he contorts his face in concentration, focused on the incoming data on the screen. The doctor continues, offhand. "Getting caught by Dr. Jung is the least of our worries."

"How so? Dr. Jung is a human."

"Really," Dr. Kim draws out, chin in hand. "And what am I?"

"Less so."

A chorus of snickers fill the lab. "No respect around here," Dr. Kim mutters, reverting to his electronic display. 

"I mean that in a _good_ way," Doyoung insists, glaring at a nearby labmate with a particularly obnoxious laugh. 

For a tiny sliver of a moment, Dr. Kim tucks away his playful candor and his eyes light up with a sense of fondness. But it's immediately replaced, and Doyoung would've thought he dreamt it, had droids dreamed. The doctor absentmindedly pulls at a lock of his unruly hair as he reverts to his screen, immediately absorbed with the stolen files. He doesn't even look up at Doyoung when he remarks, “You should make use of my own lab’s cybernetician once in a while."

Doyoung blinks. He scans his body and notices a discoloration peeking out above his dark bodysuit's neck. The droid pulls down at his top, revealing a delicate pattern of flowers that helps camouflage a thin dent in the prosthetics near his collarbone. “It's okay, I prefer Taeyong's work.” 

An audible gasp is heard from the far end of the lab.

Dr. Kim sighs, swiveling towards the sound. “Jungwoo, I apologize on Doyoung’s behalf. Again. You won’t run back to Dr. Jung, will you?” 

"I mean, I can't make any promises,” Jungwoo says slowly. The lab cybernetician comfortably sits amidst an electrical hazard of exposed wiring and overloaded outlets. He taps his chin, and a faint whirring is heard as his synthetic arm moves. He frowns, momentarily distracted as he bends the elbow joint where the metal meets bone. Finally, he sticks his chin up in the air to punctuate, “but I do want a raise.” 

“Understandable.”

“About Dr. Jung,” Doyoung begins, but the doctor continues to pore over the incoming files. “You were close with him.” 

This piques Dr. Kim's interest. He asks with a grin, “Why, is his office named after me or something?”

To which Doyoung puts up the framed photo onto one of the big screens.

“Aww, he _does_ miss me,” Dr. Kim coos, perching his elbows on his desk and looking dazed.

“Can you explain?” Doyoung motions at the screen.

“Dunno, what's to explain? We were just together,” Dr. Kim emphasizes _together_ with air quotes.

"How?"

"What do you mean _how_? You don't think a guy like me can bag that babe?"

"I mean what is the process of humans getting _together_?" Doyoung mimics Dr. Kim's air quotes. "I don't have any datasets with these underlying emotions."

"A series of stupid mistakes.” 

"That isn't helpful."

Dr. Kim shakes his head. "It's not important. I think it was two, three years ago? But once he found out about my underground lab, he stopped bringing his work home. So I ended it.”

“That’s not very nice.” 

“An acute observation, Doyoung. I’m impressed.” 

Doyoung steadily stares at Dr. Kim.

“Look, it’s like this,” the doctor starts. “You’ve got your droid friends, right? Imagine if one of them has like, this lifelong dream, alright? And only you can bring that dream to a reality. And maybe it was _one_ of the reasons they befriended you. Now imagine if they find out about and then go, fuck you, Doyoung, I don’t want to help you be a better person.”

"Noted. And a better person would lie?”

“ _Hey_.” Dr. Kim points an accusatory finger at Doyoung. “You don’t get to use the whole morality argument. Not when your entire existence came about because someone decided to tell the gods themselves to go to hell.” 

Doyoung waits.

“Fine.” Dr. Kim stuffs his hands into his coat pockets with a scowl. “I’m evil, whatever. Bite me.”

Of course Doyoung doesn’t believe that. Dr. Kim’s entire operation is anything but evil, but that still leaves room for moral greyness. Doyoung’s extensive observations can attest to this human trait.

The doctor's explanation fails to satisfy Doyoung's curiosity, however. Dr. Kim brought up the comparison with the other droids, Doyoung's "friends," to use the human term. Doyoung wonders if the feeling of love is also a form of habit. He wonders if it's how to describe the comfort of familiarity, of joy, of removing your defenses in front of someone because they can never hurt you. Wonders if love is simply another word for home.

Doyoung pauses for a beat. “Do you miss him?” 

The doctor has his mouth agape, then laughs. “I made you too human.” He shakes his head. “Dr. Jung just doesn't understand our potential together. Here, look at this.” 

Dr. Jung's files are duplicated from the doctor’s personal computer to the big screen. 

“Organic computing. That son of a bitch figured out how to make androids look like humans on the _inside_ ,” the doctor laughs with glee as he stands up, hands clasped behind him. “He just needs someone with the programmatic capabilities of my lab to bring it to life. Can you imagine what we could accomplish together?”

Dr. Kim's eyes glisten in something fierce. Doyoung's seen the look before. 

It has always been the doctor's aim for Doyoung's assignments that involved breaking into the leading droid research facilities. The aim is, that if Dr. Kim's lab could get their hands on the next big iteration of droids before Crème does, they could copyright it first. Once copywritten, Talos could end their monopolization of the industry. Androids could more easily get access to upgrades and necessary treatments. 

The direct result is the leveling of the playing field just a bit, so that the synthetic creatures could stand on their own feet and be free from their economic shackles. 

It's an ideal dream, and one that Dr. Kim has unflinching hope in.

Doyoung still has some unanswered questions. “But why would Dr. Jung risk his career and reputation to build an illegal droid with you? What does he gain?”

“Did we not just go over this?” Dr. Kim looks blankly at Doyoung, pointing to the photo again. “That idiot’s in love with me. He’d do anything for me,” the doctor snorts. “It’s almost maddening. But certainly useful in this case.”

Doyoung looks at the photo once more. He speaks conversationally, “If my emotions recognition database says anything, you appear equally in love.”

“It’s a _façade_ ,” Dr. Kim stretches out the word with exaggerated arm movements. “All an act. You may not know this side of me, but I can put on a damn _show_.”

Risks or not, Doyoung wonders why on earth anyone would want to be professional partners with someone after their personal partnership ended so poorly. Not to mention the whole breaking in and stealing his proprietary information bit.

“And anyways,” Dr. Kim continues. “Dr. Jung won’t be risking anything. It’s all in your assignment details. It’s foolproof.”

With that, Dr. Kim transfers the next assignment’s details to Doyoung’s inbox. Doyoung skips down to the security and confidentiality section. With every visit Dr. Jung takes down to the Dredges to Dr. Kim’s lab, Doyoung would perform a sweeping clean of all biodata sensors and cameras in his path. It’s not a big ask, and certainly not a kind Doyoung hasn’t done before. The spybot is to also maintain a carefully embellished corruption of data to make it seem like Dr. Jung is simply at his own home during these visits. It’s not until Doyoung traces back up to the assignment’s first steps that he exclaims, “You want _me_ to ask him? By breaking into his personal residence?”

“The setting is for dramatic effect more than anything, really,” Dr. Kim inspects his nails. “But I want to show how far I’ve come, and how much farther we can go with him onboard. And what better way than to get my work to do the talking, literally?” He ends with a pleased grin.

“Why couldn’t we have combined this assignment with today’s one?”

“We’ll need to do one more upgrade with you tonight, and then the stage is yours!” Dr. Kim quickly adds, “I say that, but stick to the talking points I’ve noted, alright?”

“This upgrade,” Doyoung begins, “will it fill the voids in my simulated functionalities?” 

“No, it’s for existing defect fixes,” Dr. Kim scrunches his brows. “What void are you talking about?”

“That void,” Doyoung points at the couple photo that’s still on display. Dr. Kim stiffens. Doyoung takes note of yet another unreproducible wave of emotions traversing the doctor's face, and the closest the droid could compare them to is _loss_. But the sheer depth and complexity of the emotions stun Doyoung. As a droid striving for perfection in his abilities, it sparks a new sense of determination in him. He nods at the doctor. "Nevermind the photo. I must know how to feel _this_."

“I don’t see how that’s relevant to you.”

“I’m a project to test the range of human emotions, with your own emotional spectrum as the standard. As of now, I am unable to experience everything you have.”

“Some emotions are just, fucking unnecessary,” the doctor laughs, but his clenched jaw hardens his demeanor. “They just get in the way, you know?”

Doyoung doesn't know. Pain and fear and anguish are necessary emotions, and he fails to understand what _getting in the way_ signifies. But he nods anyway, feeling distinctly out of his depth.

“Look, this is gonna sound corny, but you do know you’re like, my pride and joy, right?” Dr. Kim doesn’t make eye contact with Doyoung as he stands and instead occupies his attention with a tall plant. “You’re right in that I didn’t xerox copy myself exactly to make you. I made you _better_ than me. That’s why we have these differences. You don’t _want_ to be me. Do you understand that?”

“No,” Doyoung says straight-faced.

“Ugh, whatever. I’m over it, that was already too sappy. I feel _disgusting_.” Dr. Kim shudders, making a face. He finally looks at Doyoung, grinning. “So, next Thursday, 6AM sharp. Let’s get this show on the road!”

  
  


↭

  
  
  


The penthouse above the clouds is a ways from the city, barely holding onto the edge of the outskirts for utmost privacy. Flying overhead, it takes Doyoung a whole minute and then some to go from his own residence to landing into Dr. Jung’s master suite through a window. He has to suppress a laugh at the excuse of a security system the sleeping doctor chose. 

Doyoung slips off his boots by the windowsill. Dr. Jung stirs but doesn't awaken. Doyoung takes this time as an opportunity to satisfy his visual curiosity of the doctor’s residence.

It’s a massive loft by any standards, but especially so for the singular resident. Before he had even entered the loft, he strangely picked up no droid activity to shut down. 

Now indoors, Doyoung sees a house that has tried to mimic the opulence and traditions of a time before. The home has the similar design features of Dr. Jung's office that Doyoung had entered days prior. It's made up of a uniquely selected palette of granite stone, topped with exotic wood and metal that gleams from the floor-to-ceiling windows in every room. The cathedral ceilings make ample space for curated crystal chandeliers from centuries prior. A bronzed steel staircase rail coils its way to the floor below. 

Doyoung pauses at a window overlooking the heavens. The passing clouds surrounding the residence match the stark aesthetics of white leather and marble indoors. It’s a house whose excessiveness only accentuates the emptiness within.

When Doyoung steps back into the master suite, the bed is empty.

A pair of arms shoot out from outside of Doyoung’s peripherals and onto his neck, in an attempt to put him into a chokehold. But Doyoung easily spins the doctor around, twists his arms behind his back and has him in a secure grip before the doctor could even make out the intruder’s identity.

“Strong in attack, but weak in defense,” Doyoung remarks at the doctor’s struggling back as he holds him firmly by the wrists.

Dr. Jung’s body stills at the sound of the voice. “Dongyoung?”

A brief pause. “No,” Doyoung finally says. He’s rather rough when he shoves the doctor away, letting go of his grip.

The doctor finally turns to face Doyoung, straightening his crooked glasses and rubbing his wrists. The confusion on his face is slowly overtaken by an enthralled revelation as he takes in the android standing in front of him.

“My name is Doyoung. I’m not here to hurt you,” Doyoung says.

A faint smile grows on the doctor’s face. “I know.”

Doyoung is expecting more back-and-forth here, and doesn’t understand how the doctor could be so sure. Between the doctor’s poor security system and even poorer judgement of his own strength and strangers alike, the doctor seems to be a danger to himself. The android continues, “I've taken the liberty of intercepting your request for external security. You may consider any of the possible alternative systems that I’ve uploaded to your computer.”

Dr. Jung blinks slowly. “You're exactly like Dongyoung’s described. And your voice, too. The assorted inflections are _impressive_."

Doyoung raises a brow. “How do you know about Dr. Kim's notes?"

It’s Dr. Jung’s turn to be surprised. “Dongyoung’s been sending me every single one of his lab updates, from his failures to his breakthroughs even though I’ve never responded to a single one. I ignored them at the start,” Dr. Jung smiles, “But he’s a persistent man. I’m surprised his own personal droid wouldn’t know this.”

If Doyoung takes offense, he doesn’t show it. “We’re not privy to each other’s every movement. I respect Dr. Kim’s private life, and he respects mine.”

This time, Dr. Jung’s laughter is vocal, a smooth melody carrying a lightness rightfully placed among the celestial bodies. “You really are Dongyoung’s creation.”

“Well,” Doyoung changes the topic to the matter at hand. He projects a display in between the two of them showing Dr. Jung’s research. “Dr. Kim has requested that I meet with you to discuss a proposition.”

“What’s the saying, selling ice to an eskimo?” Dr. Jung grins, glancing at his own stolen files.

Doyoung does a quick verification of this phrase from the linguistic archives, no longer in the current vernacular due to both ice and eskimos being lost in history. The doctor has a very obvious penchant for all things of the past, both in the material sense and its cultural embodiment. This is despite the doctor being the posterboy for the resource-depleting consumerism that continues to ruin the planet, and this hypocrisy continues to irritate the android. “Cute.”

The doctor freezes, in the middle of picking up the glass of water by his nightstand. “Was that snark?” 

“As I was saying,” Doyoung continues. “Dr. Kim wishes to combine the knowledge of the two of you to create a prototype as a product of your synthetic biology and Dr. Kim’s programming capabilities of emotional realism,” Doyoung shifts his eyes across the screen, and the display changes to a sketch of the final product’s cross section. “In short, we want to build an android that looks, acts, and feels like a human being.”

Dr. Jung’s mouth is agape. He shakes his head, as if refusing to believe what he’s heard. 

Seeing the doctor’s worry, Doyoung adds, “Dr. Kim has confidence in achieving this goal, with your support.”

“But,” the doctor pauses, taking a breath before sitting down at the edge of his bed. He takes a gulp of water and stares at the ground. “Why…” he trails off.

“Dr. Kim aims for a future in which androids can get the treatments they need in the same hospitals as humans, for a cost that doesn’t undermine their own existence.” 

“I mean, why does Dongyoung want to see me again?”

“Because you’re the leading doctor in your field,” Doyoung slowly says. Dr. Kim had clearly warned Doyoung of Dr. Jung’s rose-tinted view of the assignment, so he’s prepared with an immediate clarification to remove the doctor’s hopeful look. “And since he’s aware of your romantic history, here are the details underlying the proposed _professional_ relationship during this joint project.”

With that, the display changes again to an exceptionally documented contract, requiring zoom to actually read the font. Dr. Jung scoffs, but it’s obvious he’s letdown, in a way.

Doyoung has much to learn in the arena of love. But he still has to give props to Dr. Kim for still having Dr. Jung emotionally wrapped around his fingers a solid three years after a relationship. And that, too, a relationship whose failure was undoubtedly the fault of Dr. Kim’s trickery. Doyoung reads the doctor’s hormone levels in an attempt to understand why he’s still hung up over someone who, in all respects, he should be thankful he is no longer personally associated with.

"As this is a covert project, we need your discretion while working in Dr. Kim's laboratory," Doyoung continues.

"Excuse me?" Dr. Jung's voice rises, panicking. "You want me to go down to the Dredges? In an illegal lab, no less? Why can't Dongyoung work in my lab? Is this an attack to ruin my career and reputation? I'll be caught before I can even move my stuff down there—"

"I will handle any and all resources you need," Doyoung cuts him off. "Including transferring the necessary tools and equipment from Crème."

"Of course you would," Dr. Jung grumbles.

"And Dr. Kim refuses to set foot again in Crème, which he's sure you're already aware of."

The doctor brews silently. His voice is glum when he finally responds. “And if I say no?” 

“Then I will take my leave.”

“That’s it?” Dr. Jung shoots up on his feet, attempting to maintain coolness but his clenched fists at his side say otherwise. “No rebuttal, no counter offer?”

“The contract’s clauses are not up for amendment,” Doyoung points out.

“Huh,” Dr. Jung walks towards the screen with his arms crossed. He uses his eye movements to scroll through the contract. “Then, we just have to make the best of the situation then. Instead of an amendment, may I make an addition?”

Doyoung doesn't like the smile on the doctor's face. “Suggestions are open.”

“I see Dongyoung hasn't mentioned the droid design we will use."

"Dr. Kim proposes that we create my own twin, using my physical and emotional design. In doing so, development time can be greatly shortened and the work will focus on your organic computing."

"But Dongyoung didn't stipulate that in the contract," Dr. Jung repeats.

Doyoung wonders what about his own design that the doctor finds lacking. He nods curtly.

"Interesting. So I was thinking.” By this point, Dr. Jung’s smile is so wide that his words carry a tune. “If we’re going for an upgrade, we might as well take the best template we have,” he finishes by gesturing at himself, triumphant.

Doyoung narrows his eyes. "And that's you," he deadpans.

"Naturally."

"That's arguable."

"Excuse me?"

"Nothing at all." Doyoung politely smiles. "Let me get in touch with Dr. Kim."

Using Dr. Jung’s own skin for the prototype would require an entire refactoring of the software to hold up in a different body design. The idea is time-consuming and unnecessary, and potentially doubles the entire project timeline. Dr. Jung should clearly understand these implications, and Doyoung is bewildered that the doctor willingly wants to waste not only _his_ time, but Dr. Kim’s as well.

He isn’t sure how to proceed, so he connects to Dr. Kim via comms. He sends an update and pauses for the doctor to send a message back.

Dr. Jung intently follows Doyoung's expressions as he waits.

Having gotten Dr. Kim’s decision, Doyoung turns off the comms. “Fine." The word leaves his mouth with a small, resigned sigh, and the skin between his brows wrinkle just a bit in vague annoyance.

“Remarkable,” Dr. Jung breathes in awe. “You look so real.”

“I _am_ real,” Doyoung mumbles.

“Sorry?”

“Nothing at all. We’ll be in touch soon. It was _great_ to meet you, Dr. Jung.”

“Huh," Dr. Jung says to himself as he watches the intruder waving cheerily before making his leave through the window. "Dongyoung could’ve at least taken his droid's sarcasm level down a notch."

  
  



	2. Chapter 2

“I’m in pain and Taeyong won’t fix it,” Yuta mopes.

Doyoung takes a seat opposite to him, facing away from the cafe windows. He scrutinizes Yuta’s physical figure and ducks under the table to complete the inspection. “Where are you hurt?” 

“Psychologically.”

Doyoung carefully puts down the soda-sized can of liquid energy before asking, “Is that possible?”

“Of course it is!” Yuta slams his hands on the table and Doyoung reflexively shoots out his arms to keep both of their drinks from spilling. “Droid mental health is a joke in this world.”

“My apologies.”

Yuta sighs. “You’re lucky you don’t have to put up with a demon child as your employer. Promise me this, Doyoung,” Yuta reaches over to clasp Doyoung’s hands in his. “When I’m inevitably decommissioned, fight for my justice. See to it that Haechan pays.”

Doyoung offers a pitying smile. “Your learned exaggerations will only overheat your system. Consider spending less time with that human.”

“You think I have a choice?” 

Their attention is suddenly distracted by the sound of distant chanting, rhythmically increasing in fervor as the voices make their way up the street and come into view through the cafe window. Doyoung doesn’t have to turn around to know what the commotion is about. 

“Life’s for the living! Death to bots!”

The protest’s leaders shout out their slogan, and an angry mob repeats in chorus. Yuta stiffens, letting go of Doyoung’s hands and making tight fists with his own. His cold glare pierces through the glass barrier protecting the androids within the cafe, with a silent message of a challenge. One of the protesters makes eye contact with him and slams their face against the window, screaming expletives as they shake their automatic weapon in the air.

“Yuta,” Doyoung warns as the other is already halfway out of his chair. 

A few other humans witness the standoff and immediately head for the cafe’s door. They jiggle the handle and their anger only increases when they realize the safety lock has been turned on. Yuta walks to stand in front of the door and smirks, his arms folded. A metal rod slams into the glass and simply bounces back without a scratch. Amused, Yuta lifts a finger with a courteous smile. Furious, the mob resorts to increased screaming and spray painting the cafe windows with offensive slurs.

“Let me know when they leave,” Taeyong nods at Doyoung, coming out of the kitchen. “So I can clean the windows,” he lets out a sigh before returning to his work.

The other androids within the cafe have only shown mild interest at Yuta and the mob outside. One droid opens his comms to relay the news that he’ll be coming home later than expected. Another shifts their chair to face away from the windows while they finish recharging. But for the most part, the droids continue to speak and act normally, as if this were a common occurrence. 

Which it is, which is why it infuriates Yuta all the more. “Ugly fuckers have no creativity,” he mutters as he sits heavily down again. “Third month in a row they used the same bland ass slogan.”

“Is it so bland?" Doyoung humors Yuta with a grin.

“Yeah, because it makes no fucking sense. How can we die if we were never alive to begin with?”

Doyoung briefly considers the argument before shaking his head. “It’s better not to think about it at all. Otherwise, they win, don’t they?”

“And how has that fared so far? You think these fucking attention hogs can be tamed by _silence_?”

Behind Doyoung, the noise slowly dissipates as the humans either give up or find another droid establishment to vandalize down the street.

"On the bright side," Doyoung says, “at least they only come to our neighborhood during their scheduled hour.”

Yuta makes a face. “Why are you trying to paint them as a civilized species?”

“I’m trying to find a positive,” Doyoung sighs. “So you don’t do something reckless.”

“Reckless,” Yuta scoffs. “What am I, a human?” 

This has been Yuta’s long-standing theory: a terrorist organization, colloquially called antibots, was secretly hired by the mega-corporation creating the bots. Its original goal was to use human sympathy to sell more droids. According to Yuta, the terrorist organization got out of hand when they started working separately from their boss’s orders and began to improvise. While the idea is certainly novel, Doyoung has a hard time believing it. “I’ve looked through the net, private and public, and I’ve found nothing to support your claim.”

“But nothing to refute it, either,” Yuta taps his temple. “Those assholes may be dumb, but they’re not _that_ dumb. They know we’d call out their shit if they left it out in the open. I’m betting they do their business offline so they don’t leave a paper trail.”

“I don’t know.”

“Look, you gotta admit it’s not a farfetched idea,” Yuta leans across the table. “Human emotions are a mystery to humans, themselves, aren’t they?”

Now that notion, Doyoung can agree with. Within the past week, he’s been privy to enough emotional constipation among two particular humans to give him a metaphorical headache. Doyoung leans forward, solemnly nodding. “You may be onto something.”

Yuta smiles, pleased. He fondly looks at a protester camping out at the cafe entrance, the one who he flipped off. “You know, there’s one other positive to these idiots. They made me forget why I was even mad at my brat to begin with.” 

  
  


↭

  
  
  


It’s early in the morning. Dr. Jung shifts his weight between his feet, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose as he stands in the center of the underground lab. With the sound of the buzzer signaling each worker trickling in, his eyes shoot towards the entrance, only to be disappointed at their identity. He lights up for a solid moment when Doyoung enters, before reverting to a tight-lipped smile.

“Pleased to see you again, too, Dr. Jung,” Doyoung remarks.

Dr. Jung smirks. “Glad we’re already on such friendly terms for banter. Did Dongyoung say if he was going to be late today? I was told to be here an hour ago.”

“It is rather unlike him not to be here yet. He’s never this late,” Doyoung privately messages Dr. Kim that Dr. Jung has arrived, and is answered with keyboard smash, so all must be well.

“Dr. Jung!” Jungwoo happily exclaims as he runs across the lab, only slowing down when fellow coworkers shout at his haphazard pathway through machines and wires. Doyoung moves out of the way just in time before Jungwoo collides with the doctor. 

“It’s been a while, Jungwoo!” Dr. Jung laughs. “Surprised to see me again?”

“I would, if Dr. Kim hadn’t nagged me all week long to clean this place up for your first day.” Jungwoo grins. “Of course, he had to end up stepping in and doing it himself when I refused. He’s a great boss!”

Dr. Jung laughs again. “Glad that you’re in good hands down here!” He offers one more look at the entrance before continuing, “Are you sure you wouldn’t want to come back and work with me again? I can double what Dongyoung’s paying you.” 

“Would I have to actually work, though?”

“On second thought—”

“Jungwoo, my morning coffee!” Dr. Kim announces as he strolls in. He unhooks his lab coat from the stand, slides it on with an extravagant flourish, and pointedly looks anywhere but where Dr. Jung stands.

Doyoung's optics whirrs into focus as his curiosity spikes. Dr. Kim’s expressions are at odds with his internal responses. Dr. Jung also appears calmer on the surface than his vitals suggest. Doyoung wonders if this strange contradiction holds the key to love.

Jungwoo frowns, confused. “But you don’t drink—” 

“You know, my usual,” Dr. Kim winks, and that somehow registers a lightbulb in Jungwoo. The cybernetician responds with a knowing nod before running across the lab, triggering another round of alarmed yelling from his coworkers.

Dr. Jung's face turns visibly bright. "Hey—"

“Oh dear,” Dr. Kim finally takes note of Dr. Jung in their midst and makes a shocked face, clutching his chest. He walks toward the visitor, tutting, “Was today the day you would be joining us? My sincere apologies, it must’ve slipped my mind.”

“What do you mean?” Doyoung asks. “You requested that I set up fourteen alarms-”

“Kids,” Dr. Kim’s laughter is loud and choppy. “They say the darndest things." He stands with his hands on his hips, bemused. Dr. Jung is about to open his mouth, and Dr. Kim cuts him off. "Ah! The jet engine parked outside must be yours, then? Thank goodness I didn't call the scrappers on that eyesore.”

As if Dr. Kim's acting isn’t obvious, Dr. Jung plays along with a smile. “That’s alright. Dongyoung, I’ve—”

“I see you haven’t read through our contract,” Dr. Kim cuts in with a wagging finger. “That’s Dr. Kim to you, Dr. Jung.”

“And here we go!” Jungwoo reappears with a full mug of steaming liquid and gingerly hands it to Dr. Kim.

“Thank you, my sweet.” Dr. Kim motions the drink at Dr. Jung and chuckles. “What can I say, my people love me. I’m something of a hero around these parts. But I’m not the type to toot my own horn,” he finishes with a swig, before prompting spitting the drink right back out.

Jungwoo leans towards Dr. Jung, whispering, “We don’t have any coffee.”

Dr. Kim carefully sets down the suspicious brown liquid and looks at Dr. Jung. “Anyway. To honor formal introductions, my name is Dr. Kim—”

“You don’t need—” Dr. Jung starts.

“And I am the creative director and lead AI specialist of this premier droid lab—” 

“Yes, I know all of this—”

“Now,” Dr. Kim continues louder, his arms gesturing around him. “This lab serves as the central operational hub for the city’s community run underground droid hospitals. And in this spirit of community, we pride our codebase for being free and open source. Unlike, you know, _certain_ labs whose research is behind high paywalls that locks up technological advancements behind a barrier of accessibility constraints.” Dr. Kim pointedly coughs, which does little to cover up his words. “Dr. Jung.”

“I’ve told you before, I work in a _corporate_ lab,” Dr. Jung frowns. “I’m only a scientist, it’s not in my power to—” 

“Of course. A real pity.” Dr. Kim’s diplomatic smile is laced with judgement. “Anyway. For _my_ lab, any droid can come in and request materials for the upkeep of their own hospital, and we happily provide. The result? Affordable and reliable care at the fraction of their cost at corporate hospitals, saving our patients thousands in expenses. God, it’s really something else we’re doing down here.”

Dr. Kim pauses, momentarily basking in his own thoughts. Meanwhile, a silently amused Dr. Jung has all but given up on trying to interject and is simply shaking his head, smiling.

“I know what you’re thinking,” Dr. Kim laughs, wagging his finger. “But how do we get the funding? Funny you should ask.” With that, Dr. Kim gestures at a lab worker standing by for the cue, and they pull down a large sheet of cloth that was covering a whole area of machinery. Dr. Kim turns back to Dr. Jung, grinning. “Our money comes from the same place as your lab equipment. Talos!”

Dr. Jung slowly takes off his glasses and drags a hand through his face. “You could’ve just asked me, instead of stealing. Again.” 

“That’s so sweet of you to care!” Dr. Kim is clearly entertained by his reaction. “But not to worry. None of it will trace back to your specific lab. And you’ve met Doyoung already.” Doyoung gives Dr. Jung an imperceptible nod, and the doctor returns one. “He’s made sure to keep a clean trail during our machine relocation process. As far as you’re concerned, you’re safe here with me.”

Dr. Jung glows a quiet pink at that, suddenly looking away and Dr. Kim’s own confidence falters as he replays his last words.

“Well, then,” Dr. Kim attempts to save himself with a forced laugh. “That brings us to the end of our introductions. Any questions or concerns?”

Dr. Jung takes a deep breath and says, “I missed you.”

With that, Dr. Kim’s cordial demeanor fades. His tone is all business when he speaks again, with any trace of humor having vanished. “Taeil’s been instructed to get you ramped up with your lab procedures and code of conduct. Now, back to work,” Dr. Kim says to nobody in particular. He spins on his heel and heads to his workstation, leaving Dr. Jung at a loss.

As with most personal androids, Doyoung can see a human’s health status, including their released hormones as a result of emotional stimuli. But it’s hard to read thoughts and harder yet to understand complex emotions behind unspoken words. Dr. Jung’s expression of pain and heavy longing is easy to note for Doyoung from the context clues. But it’s Dr. Kim’s that is surprisingly confusing to read. As his personal android, it’s Dr. Kim who Doyoung needs to wholly understand to provide optimum support.

 _You’re angry._ Doyoung privately questions through the comms.

 _I’m not angry_ , is Dr. Kim’s predictable response.

_Your adrenaline and cortisol spiked immediately after he said that he missed you._

_Look, I’m just annoyed, okay?_

_Why are you annoyed, then?_

_I don’t remember creating a psychologist bot._

Dr. Kim’s habit to sidestep Doyoung’s questions with ad hominem attacks is best replied with patience, so Doyoung waits for a proper response.

_Alright, fine. Dr. Jung was just too honest. Happy?_

_Did you want him to lie about his feelings?_

_I wanted him to be mature about knowing what to say and what to hide. We’re not teenagers anymore._

_Is that why you put up a whole charade this morning terribly feigning indifference to Dr. Jung's arrival when you’ve been giddy all week long?_

_Shut the fuck up, Doyoung._

_I’m glad we had this conversation._

  
  


↭

  
  
  


"I _know_ it’s your lab, but that doesn’t give you the right to be so bossy."

"You say bossy and I hear assertive. Bold. Inspiring."

"Relentless. Irritating. Arrogant."

"Sexy."

The response makes Dr. Jung’s pulse rate jump a notch, Doyoung notices. But the doctor hides it well as he peeks up from his electronic desk display of mock-ups at his workstation, suspiciously squinting at Dr. Kim. The heads of a few labhands nearby also turn, entertained by the back-and-forth between the two doctors that’s been going on all week.

"What, got nothing to say to that?" Dr. Kim rotates on his chair to face the other doctor and shrugs, looking unperturbed. "You can acknowledge your business partner's good looks. That's not against the contract."

Dr. Jung blanks, then shakes his head. “Whatever. But I’m not going to arbitrarily introduce unknown variables in my design just because _you_ don’t want to tweak your algorithm.”

“Oh come _on_ ,” Dr. Kim sighs loudly as he uses his feet to roll himself over to Dr. Jung’s workstation. He tries to rotate the bioengineer’s desk display and has his hand slapped away in the process. Doyoung senses that Dr. Kim’s blood flow has sped up at the physical contact. The doctor continues after a pause. “It’s not a big ask to fix the prototype’s emotional stimuli and response. What do you need to do, add less of the hormonal chemicals or whatever?”

“Fix?” Dr. Jung repeats. “There’s nothing wrong with having a full emotional range.” He earns a snort and promptly responds with a glare. “And for your information, no, this isn’t some homegrown cooking recipe to simply add less of _whatever_.” 

“So then what? It’s up to me to bend to your design?”

“Precisely.”

“Oh, that’s cute. Yeah, sure, Dr. Kim, just type a few lines of code and wave your wizard wand and woosh, problem solved! God, whoever thought AI software could be so _easy_?”

“Easier than building a literal human being from scratch.”

“Is it, though?”

Dr. Jung takes a deep breath and closes his eyes. “My research team has run iteration after iteration of this simulated prototype to make sure its biological shell holds up in human scenarios. The resulting implementation is watertight. I will _not_ compromise on this.”

“Now look who’s bossy,” Dr. Kim scoffs. “Why _human_ scenarios, anyway? You’ve got a whole universe of possibilities, and you still choose to limit the prototype to _human_ behavior?”

“I’m sorry, am I in the wrong lab? Aren’t we building a _human_ droid?”

“Well, yeah. A human, but only in looks. Why does he have to act like one, too?”

“Because the human’s physical body directly affects the body’s actions?”

“Speciest,” Dr. Kim mumbles.

“Dr. Kim,” Dr. Jung raises his voice, leaning forward across the desk. If the doctor didn’t notice the other’s face melting into one of a vulnerable softness, Doyoung certainly does. “It’s been a week and your criticism has been endless. If you don’t like my approach, why did you want to work with me?”

Dr. Kim mirrors his pose, further reducing the distance between the two. Dr. Jung’s pulse hammers in his ears as Doyoung notes a tinge of creeping red. “Because, Dr. Jung, I thought you’d have gotten over your stubborn and bratty attitude and maybe, I don’t know, take someone else’s advice for a change.”

“Stubborn. Me.” Dr. Jung’s laugh is curt. “I see you’re still obsessed over controlling people beyond your set boundaries.”

“My boundaries?” Dr. Kim rises up to his feet, still leaned over the desk anchored by his hands. “As this project's principal lead—"

" _Self-declared_ lead."

"—it’s up to me to ensure compatibility between the bioengineering design and the artificial intelligence software. My boundaries literally exist with you inside of them.”

Dr. Jung leans back, a subtle smile on his face. “Literally?”

“Fuck off, Dr. Jung.”

“Yell as much as you’d like,” Dr. Jung looks triumphantly at the agitated doctor. “I’m not budging from my design.”

Dr. Kim inhales deeply and exhales. “I think I’m going to talk to my plants now.”

  
  


↭

  
  
  


“Your designs line up almost perfectly from the get-go,” a labhand notes, switching between monitors as he compares the two doctors’ documentations.

“Of course.” Dr. Jung removes his glasses to blow on them, fogging them up before rubbing them clean with the hem of his shirt. He puts them back on and looks over the labhand’s shoulder, squinting at the screen. “Taeil, is it?”

Taeil nods. “I’ve added corrections for the two of you to review, but we should be able to get started with the implementation in no less than a week.”

“Only a week?” Dr. Jung almost seems disappointed at the news.

“Your care and regard for catching edge case scenarios in particular is most impressive, Dr. Jung. There’s very little else for us to do before we wrap up the design stage.”

“I should’ve been less careful, then,” Dr. Jung mutters.

“What was that?”

“Nothing.”

But it's not nothing, not from what Doyoung picks up. He's learned to read beyond the doctors' words by now.

Up until now, Dr. Kim’s team has been developing the boilerplate code that meshes with the biological design of Dr. Jung’s lab. The implementation will be more tedious, involving extracting Dr. Jung’s DNA, sequencing it, and resynthesizing the possible versions of it to reconstruct the lifeform to their blueprint. Once the physical shell’s various parts are complete, the comatose droid will then be synced up with the AI software to inject into the neural network. 

“Now don’t bloat up his head _too_ much, Taeil.” Dr. Kim warns, strolling over to the labhand’s station. “And Dr. Jung, it’s great to see you warm up to my employees, but do recognize your time here is only temporary.” He gives Dr. Jung a lofty look, nose pointed in the air. “My employee calibre is higher than what you folks up in Telos settle for.”

Dr. Jung grins. “Is it _you_ folks, now? If I remember correctly,” Dr. Jung pretends to think hard. “You were once a Crème resident, Dr. Kim.”

“What, when I was living with you?” Dr. Kim guffaws loud and free, and then immediately cuts to a still face. “Doesn’t count. Not when my ulterior motive went against everything Crème stands for. I was still a man from the Dredges, quietly stealing from your lots’ shit to share with the masses. The Robin Hood of our generation, if you will.”

“Mmm, still counts. And Robin Hood was from the noble class, you know.”

Dr. Kim rolls his eyes. “Fine. Not him, then.” 

It’s clear to Doyoung that Dr. Jung is taking immense pleasure from the reactions. “And if you tried, you could’ve been working for Telos, even.”

Dr. Kim gasps, morally offended. “You take that back.”

“Just look at this,” Taeil flags some other workers to see his screen. He shakes his head in awe as he continues perusing through the prototype design. “Just how was it that two different labs ended up creating a single blueprint that molds so well before we even began working together?”

“Oh? Dr. Kim didn’t tell you?” Dr. Jung raises a brow. “He’s been sending me love letters with his thoughts for a year now.”

Dr. Kim sputters. “They’re not _love letters_ , they’re my lab notes. Have some respect for the profession. Also, I would’ve appreciated a response if you were reading them,” he adds with a grumble.

“Why would I, with you working as my corporation’s competitor?” Then, quieter, Dr. Jung continues, with meaning veiled beyond his words. “Who are we to each other, Dr. Kim?”

Dr. Kim breaks the eye-contact, choosing to squint down at Taeil’s monitor. “We’re peers, obviously, with mutual appreciation for the larger scientific community.”

“Right. It’s not like we were ever in love or anything.”

“Certainly not.”

“This is going to be impossible.” Another labhand loudly groans as they look up from Taeil’s monitors, making the doctors pause in their conversation to look over. “I mean, on paper it looks fine, but I’m having a headache just thinking about the implementation.” They casually throw a sour glance at Dr. Jung before reverting to Dr. Kim again. “Why do we even need to go the biological route? What was wrong with chrome bots? Is this even real engineering anymore?” 

“Of course it is.” Dr. Kim says, annoyed. “Remember why we’re doing any of this. We get so caught up in lines of code that we’re forgetting the magic that we’re made of. All those layers and all the incredibly codependent pieces, it’s fucking complicated, but it works. Biology’s the realest form of engineering there is.”

"...Right." The lab hand gives the doctor an even stare, unperturbed. But he doesn't question it, and instead shares silent, knowing looks with his coworkers.

Even humans can see through their game, Doyoung thinks in silence.

"That _is_ right." Dr. Kim gloats in victory before he turns to see a smile on Dr. Jung's face.

“Thank you.”

Dr. Kim scoffs. “For what?”

Dr. Jung’s smile grows. “For supporting me.”

“I wasn’t- What I said had nothing to do with you.” Dr. Kim dramatically laughs. “I was only upholding the integrity of this project.”

“ _Really_. Dr. Kim, be honest." Dr. Jung levels with him. "Have you _ever_ lied and got away with it?"

“I have, for your information. It’s just that _somebody’s_ learned to read me better than they had read for their combinatorics exam.”

“Oh, get over it.” Dr. Jung groans. “So you scored a tiny bit higher than me in one course, _ten years_ ago. And need I remind you which one of us actually earned their doctor title?”

Dr. Kim puts a hand up in the air. “It was by a 13-point margin, there were _three_ courses, and no, you don't need to remind me which of us preferred to stay a slave to mindless institutionalized education." He punctuated it with a theatrical laugh, earning him an eye-roll. "And anyway, I refuse to downplay my accomplishments to coddle your ego. Face it, Dr. Jung. You’re obsessed with me.”

"Yeah. I am,” Dr. Jung freely admits, looking amused as Dr. Kim gapes in shock and then immediately looks away to hide the fact. “And by the sound of it, you’re a little obsessed with me, too.” 

"Ha! You _wish_." Dr. Kim quickly diverts his attention to the labhands captivated by their conversation. “What are you guys doing? This isn’t some free show for your entertainment. Get back to work!”

  
  


↭

  
  
  


“I was thinking. Since the project _is_ my idea, I’ve decided that our prototype will be called—”

“Hold on,” Dr. Jung cuts him off. “How is that fair? The prototype is going to have my face and my body, so naturally—”

“Naturally, you’d want another trophy of pseudo-humanity to add to your own collection?”

“Please, do go on about how much you hate me.”

A stomach grumbles, and its sound echoes through the space.

Dr. Kim rises from his workstation, stretching up his arms as he yawns. The time on the large monitor blinks 12:37 AM in red. The lab is only half-lit and mostly empty other than the two doctors and Doyoung, with the other labmates having gone home hours earlier. Lights flicker on one by one before him as he strolls across the lab. He walks into what was previously the subway station’s administrative office, now repurposed into a pantry of sorts. 

“You know,” Dr. Kim’s voice is muffled as he shifts things around inside. “As this lab’s owner and your host, I gotta say I’m disappointed in the lack of respect I’m getting.”

“Pay me first, and then I’ll consider respecting you,” Dr. Jung yells out.

Dr. Kim emerges back out and a small object is hurled with force across the lab. The aim is literally head-on, and would’ve hit Dr. Jung smack in the face if he hadn’t caught it in midair. “There’s your payment. You’re welcome.” 

Dr. Jung looks at the catch. It's a snack, a package of simple salted biscuits from an old company. The wrapper isn’t quite the same, but the inner contents are an exact replica of his memory when the two doctors used to live together. Dr. Kim had hated these, but they were Dr. Jung's favorite. 

Doyoung notes a release of dopamine in Dr. Jung’s brain, sparking his curiosity. The doctor suppresses a smile before holding up a biscuit at Dr. Kim. “I didn’t know they still made these.”

“They don’t,” Dr. Kim shrugs, suddenly curious at the accumulation of dust on a nearby table. “It’s a knock-off from the black market. Probably poisoned.”

“Would be a pity if it were.” Dr. Jung happily starts munching.

“The scientific community will always remember you,” Dr. Kim says solemnly.

Dr. Jung raises a brow. “Would they?” He asks, to which Doyoung notices Dr. Kim’s increased heart rate and a slowdown of his metabolism, which is sure to cause funny feelings in his stomach. But visually, Dr. Kim only laughs. This response is enough for Dr. Jung, however, who places a hand over his chest. “Payment accepted.”

“About the prototype’s name, then,” Dr. Kim says.

“How about Jaehyun?” Doyoung asks.

The doctors turn to the android, who had been conveniently forgotten all this time. Doyoung looks between them, waiting.

“Jaehyun,” Dr. Kim repeats, tapping his chin. “It does have a nice ring to it. And it makes sense for Doyoung to choose the name, anyway, being the unbiased third party here.”

“Not sure about the unbiased part,” Dr. Jung frowns. Doyoung has to give him kudos for his associative skills. “But Jaehyun’s alright.”

“Project Jaehyun it is!” Dr. Kim claps with finality. He brings up the prototype’s design mockup on the big screen, whose face is essentially an exact replica of Dr. Jung. “Hey, baby boy,” Dr. Kim coos. “Do you like your name?”

“Dr. Jung is releasing an unexpected amount of adrenaline,” Doyoung calmly notes. “I suspect he may need to relax.”

Dr. Kim turns to look at the other doctor, confused.

"What?" Dr. Jung's eyes widen. “I’m cool.” An increased body temperature says otherwise.

“It began immediately after Dr. Kim said—”

“That’s enough,” Dr. Jung interrupts.

With revelation on his face, Dr. Kim gapes. “Oh my god, you are _so_ immature,” He shakes his head at Dr. Jung, exasperated. He then speaks to Doyoung in a somewhat embarrassed voice. “You can sleep for the night, you know.”

“May I stay and continue to observe?” Doyoung offers. “Your explanation the other day was insufficient, and I’m very interested in collecting this data.”

“Explain what? Observe what?” Dr. Jung hesitantly asks, looking at Dr. Kim.

“Nothing,” Dr. Kim clears his throat. “Just emotional pattern recognition, that's all. But yeah, whatever,” he motions vaguely, “you can stick around but there's not much to see.”

“Of course there isn’t,” Doyoung sweetly responds.

  
  


↭

  
  
  


The 3D printers hum in unison as they meticulously build out the prototype’s cardiovascular components one by one. Machinery with utmost precision carefully use their moving arms to pick up the completed blood vessels, miles in length. The components are then placed into their assigned pathways within the body capsule, using programmed micro tweezers. The process has no room for error. Due to this, all forms of unpredictable variables are shut out, including direct human contact. Instead, the machines follow the orders of the biodroid manipulation program that the doctors had spent the past month fine tuning.

“Last night’s commit shouldn’t break anything,” Dr. Kim mutters to himself. He stands with some other lab workers a safe distance away from the machines, monitoring the progress on the large display screen.

“What do you mean, last night’s commit?” Dr. Jung asks, narrowing his eyes. “Did you do anything I should be worried about?” 

“I’m offended by that supposition.”

A pause. And then, “I’m going to have to clean up after you, don’t I?”

“Oh, relax,” Dr. Kim waves him away. “Between the two of us, I’m the better developer, anyway.”

“But who’s the bioengineering expert?” Dr. Jung counters. “My machine’s algorithm has already been reviewed by my lab’s own software experts days ago. I swear, Dongyoung-”

“That’s Dr. Kim to you—”

Within seconds, Dr. Jung has walked over and stopped with his face barely inches away. “Dr. Kim,” he says barely above a whisper, “if your tampering puts us back to square one, I’m going to be _pissed_.” 

Dr. Kim evenly stares back.

“Well?”

“This is a motherfucking staring contest.”

Dr. Jung blinks.

“And I’m winning.”

“You’re impossible,” Dr. Jung huffs before stepping back and turning away.

No longer under scrutiny, Dr. Kim lets himself lose his composure. When Dr. Jung roughly rakes a hand through his hair, he mutters under his breath.

“Did you say something?” Dr. Jung asks over his shoulder, his eyes now fixed on the large monitor showing the zoomed-in components.

“I said, ‘not as impossible as fixing our society's foundational economic disparity.’”

Dr. Jung doesn’t even warrant that response with a glance, and for that, Dr. Kim is thankful. He releases the tension in his shoulders and swallows hard, and a foreign expression traverses his face as he bores his eyes into the back of Dr. Jung's face.

Doyoung briefly reanalyzes the data he’s collected over the weeks. He’s picked up enough of the doctors’ emotional self-restraint and non-verbal communication to realize there’s a gap in his behavioral knowledge. Secret glances, coy smiles, and fluttering stomachs aside, the humans steer clear of recognizing their own feelings. 

He has an idea of the doctors' reasoning behind the white lies. Perhaps they’re afraid it’ll get in the way of their work. Perhaps they think they’re not compatible after all, especially after their failed first attempt. Or perhaps there’s another reason, one that Doyoung isn’t yet privy to.

Doyoung’s also learned to keep the doctors’ secret feelings hidden. There are short-term gains with positive hormones whenever Doyoung points out the effects of each other’s actions, but the stress hormones released after the initial high would have a days-long effect. Doyoung’s requests for clarifications from Dr. Kim have always been met with an immovable wall. 

He considers the validity of reaching out to Dr. Jung, instead. Doyoung and Dr. Kim have a pact not to spy on each other. But pact loopholes exist for a reason. He comes to the conclusion that as long as it directly correlates with Doyoung’s understanding of his own human’s increasingly volatile emotions, gathering information about the related human without him knowing is allowable.

_What do you gain in hiding your feelings from Dr. Kim?_

Dr. Jung’s eyes widen at the private comms message from the android. He looks off to the side from where he stands in front of the display screens. Out of his peripherals, Dr. Kim has walked up to stand next to him and is reading the monitor’s updates. Dr. Jung responds to Doyoung with, _Did Dongyoung put you up to this?_

_Dr. Kim’s pride would never let him stoop to such lows._

_Touché._ Doyoung waits as Dr. Jung thinks. _It’s written in the contract that we maintain professionality._

_That contract is neither legally binding nor includes financial repercussions._

Another pause. _It’s safer that way._

_Safer how? So that Project Jaehyun isn’t affected by messy human emotions?_

Dr. Jung snorts, causing Dr. Kim to give him a strange look. _Messy. I can’t disagree with you on that._

 _But there’s more to it_ , Doyoung leads on.

_You sure are a curious bot._

_Is it for the same reasons that you two separated three years ago?_

The response is lightning fast this time. _What do you know about that?_

 _That Dr. Kim ended the relationship once you found out about his lab._ Doyoung words the second part carefully. _That the two of you valued your relationship differently._

 _Dr. Kim did break up with me after his connection with the Dredges got out. But he did so to protect_ me. 

Doyoung briefly stalls. 

Dr. Jung continues. _Talos immediately set up restrictions on our relationship after that to prevent me from leaking any more proprietary information. I begged Dongyoung to permanently move up to Crème. He refused. I suggested that I confront the company board. I was ready to quit everything for him._

“A-ha!” Dr. Kim raises a fist in the air, breaking the conversation in the private comms. He leans an arm on Dr. Jung’s shoulder. “See? I told you my update would help. Thanks to me, Jaehyun’s heart is magnitudes stronger than yours.”

“Huh,” Dr. Jung says, unconvinced. He scrolls back up the console to double-check the heart’s log statements.

“Look at us, creating life with our bare hands,” Dr. Kim sighs in content. “Maybe you idiots up in the clouds deserve some rights.”

“Do we?” Dr. Jung’s voice is glum.

“Why, are you still mad?” Dr. Kim pouts. “We just made a breakthrough! It’s time for celebration!” When Dr. Jung doesn’t respond, Dr. Kim’s tone is softer. “I’m sorry, okay? I’ll ask before I make any more changes to your programs. Friends?”

Dr. Jung looks at the invitation for a handshake and pointedly looks away. 

“What’s with you?” Dr. Kim gently nudges the doctor with his shoulder. “Fine, then. Tell me what I can do to make it up to you.”

Dr. Jung opens his mouth, only to close it again.

“Out with it, mister fish. How can I apologize?”

“By putting our relationship before my career.”

Dr. Kim stares slack-jawed, a million emotions travelling across his face. Eventually, he just reverts his attention to the screen. “Stay mad, then.”

  
  


↭

  
  
  


“I’m surprised the human population hasn’t self-imploded yet,” Doyoung grumbles.

The group of droids sit around a table at the far end of the cafe. The evening crowd has dissipated long ago, with Taeyong closing shop to properly catch up with the others.

“ _I’m_ not surprised,” Yuta shrugs. "Their stances are all over the place for them to die at once." 

“Speaking of stances,” Taeyong gestures at Yuta’s hair. “Now that’s a stance.”

“It’s one of Haechan’s few good judgements.” Yuta leans back and runs a hand through his pale pink locks with a drawn-out sigh. "But the deviant's finally moved out and his parents are worried as fuck. Who knows what kind of hellfire he's gonna bring to the world," he ends miserably, dropping his head on the table with a thud.

"There, there." Mark's tone is flat as he lightly taps Yuta's head, his attempt at consolation. "He's no longer your employer now. You are free."

"If only." Yuta props his chin up on his arm. "He insisted I also register under his own name so I can be his housebot, too."

"Then you must be a good employee," Mark nods.

Yuta sighs in content. "See, this is why you're my favorite." He sighs again. "But no, it’s only because he wants me to suffer. ‘Cause now, because of his decision to live closer to his weird little cult of rebels he’s somehow founded _,_ my commute fucking _sucks_."

“Language,” Taeyong warns.

“It’s okay,” Mark nods. “I’ve learned to keep words out of my lexicon if they carry a negative connotation to Taeyong.”

Yuta widens his eyes. “Qualitative data analysis? I’m impressed, Mark.”

“It’s not a common trait among your coworkers, is it?” Doyoung asks. Worker droids like Mark, those who typically perform basic repeated labor, are developed with the bare minimum complex cognitive skills to function. The idea is to create a template most efficient for mass-produced workers. From a mega-corporation’s point of view, the added bonus is that these droids won’t have the abilities to understand their own corporate subjugation. Free thinking poses danger to the human employers. Even having the simple decision making prowess to filter incoming data like Mark has done is a questionable act.

“Not at all,” Mark says. “In fact, my latest assessment is that this may be a crippling defect.” He says this as an ordinary statement without any feeling, just as he normally speaks. 

But it causes the other three to sit up ramrod straight, and for Yuta to swear under his breath. 

Taeyong’s questions spill out a mile a minute. “What kind of defect? Do you know your specific cluster entry with this issue? Or is it not isolated? Would I be able to fix it?”

Mark pauses, digesting the queries. “I was not provided the knowledge of the defect nor its location. But I was told that my original program has begun to morph into a more human anomaly.”

“These fuckers can’t make up their mind on whether they want us to exist more like them or less like them,” Yuta mutters. “Almost as if they don’t want us to exist, period. Killing us off when they feel like it.”

“We exist to serve humans.” Mark speaks matter-of-factly. “And my existence hasn’t ended yet.”

The news breaks Doyoung’s heart. He’s known other droids of Mark’s ability level who have since been decommissioned, and it had hurt every time. As vital as worker bots are for the economy, they can be easily replaced. But Mark’s been a long-time constant in Doyoung’s short existence. Imagining this booth with one less droid feels unthinkable. “It’s not because of us, is it?” Doyoung asks, really more to Taeyong and Yuta. “We’re all well more advanced than Mark’s level. Do you think our exchanges introduced this human anomaly in his system?”

“So what if we did?” Yuta demands. “Let’s be real, it’s not a defect. It’s not hurting Mark or anyone else. It’s actually letting him be more in charge of himself. It’s just that these fucking mega-corps are hellbent on uniformity because it’s easier to control us that way. They’ll label anything different as wrong.”

Worry lines crease Taeyong’s forehead as he looks at Mark. “Come to me the minute you hear even a whisper about decommissioning, okay?” He wraps a comforting arm around the smaller bot. “Don’t worry about your tracking chip. I can get rid of it and hide you in here.”

“Why do I need to hide?” Mark asks. His face remains cordial and his voice calm. But the other droids have been around him for long enough to point out the worker droid’s non-verbal cues: an uptick in processor speed, a growing tree of threads, an infinite while loop. Mark is confused. “I’ve reached the end of my existence as a functioning tool. I can no longer serve the purpose I was built to provide. Based on the maintenance guidelines, infected devices must be immediately removed from the network. After decommissioning, my metal can be repurposed for a more efficient bot.” 

“No.” Taeyong’s voice rises before the other two droids could respond. He takes a deep breath, and says quietly, “You are _not_ just a tool, Mark. Your value lies beyond your purpose.”

“My value lies in my ability to provide for society.”

“Your value is in your very existence, not in what someone else gains from it. It isn’t defined by your productivity. It never was, and it never will be.”

Mark blinks. "I fail to understand. But thank you," he says. “Staying in existence for a bit longer does sound nice.” Taeyong tightens his hug.

Whoops and hollers are suddenly heard from the street outside. Doyoung clenches his jaw.

“I see that the antibots have gotten chummy with street patrol,” Yuta smiles tight-lipped, the closest he could make to a grimace with his limited expressions.

“Doyoung, fly Mark home, will you?” Taeyong slides out of the booth, warily keeping an eye on the windows. “I’ll check with the neighborhood security to see what’s going on.”

“Will you guys be alright?” Doyoung asks as he stands. “Yuta, what about you?”

Yuta clicks his tongue. “I can sleep here. My family’s not expecting me until tomorrow morning, anyway. Just make sure you guys get home safe.”

Taeyong nods. “We can protect ourselves,” he spares a tiny wave at Mark as they leave. “Remember, Mark. My door is always open for you.”

  
  


↭

  
  
  


Doyoung still has Mark on his mind when the doctors call him over. 

“Isn’t he beautiful,” Dr. Kim whispers, staring at the sleeping figure in front of them, protected within the glass incubation chamber. Dr. Jung raises a brow at the doctor before rolling his eyes with a smile. 

The Jaehyun prototype is physically complete. The lab’s entire force has crowded around the central station to witness the electrical surge that began the first heartbeat and kickstarted neural activity. All that is remaining is a week’s worth of tests to verify neural connectivity, brain receptors, and mapping the circulatory flow, currently being closely monitored. Until then, the prototype will remain in a sustainable, living and breathing sleeping state. Human and droid labmates alike are gathered around, exhilarated at the result. _His skin is perfect_ , they comment. _It's a new leap in synthetic biology._

Doyoung looks down at the glass case. The android is so real, flesh and blood making it nearly impossible to differentiate from a human. Both his inner mechanics displayed on the large screen and his physical structure are as organic as can be. 

“He certainly looks human,” is Doyoung’s flat response.

“Hey,” Dr. Kim asks, surprised. “Why the long face?” 

Doyoung smiles politely this time. “I apologize. It’s just that I find it hard to be excited over someone who will replace me.” 

“Wait,” Dr. Kim flaters. “You don’t think I’m doing this to replace you? Doyoung, I would never even think of it.” 

“Of course. I didn't mean me, specifically. I mean my kind.” Doyoung thinks maybe not right away, but this kind of new droid would eventually be the cause for millions of droid replacements as it becomes mainstream. Because that’s what humans do: buy the latest shiniest droid, and down the old get chucked, into the recycling containment. Doyoung continues with a courteous smile. “But nevermind my feelings. This prototype is the efficient way to move. Forward.” 

Dr. Kim gives Dr. Jung a look.

“What?”

“Oh, you very well know _what_.”

Dr. Jung sighs. “We’ve discussed this before. Countless times. I know I work in a shitty industry. If you want me to leave Crème, just say the word—”

“No, you hardboiled egg, why the fuck would you give up that kind of power?”

Dr. Jung’s laugh is more of a scoff that doesn’t make it to a smile. “Fine, I’ll entertain you. What can I do with the power that I have?”

“What you can do,” Dr. Kim stresses, “like I told you before, is to clean up your industry’s shit.”

“I don't have that kind of power.”

“But you're power-adjacent, aren’t you? Or do you just, I dunno, profit from the droid community’s lack of ownership over their own existence and sweep your precious guilt under the rug?”

“It should’ve tipped me off that you weren’t just talk when we first met. I should’ve known a scathing roast of my moral judgment was a terrible excuse for flirting.”

“Don’t change the topic, Dr. Jung. If I were in your position I’d fucking get shit _done_.”

“Look, I’ve already explained it. If a scientist attempts to advise them on how to run their business, they’ll just laugh in our faces.”

“God, would it kill you to try, though—”

“And then I’ll be out of love, _and_ a career. You can’t get your way every time, Dongyoung—”

“It’s doctor, _fucking_ , Kim-”

“It's alright,” Doyoung intervenes. “The basic inner workings of society can’t be changed overnight.” He looks down at the Jaehyun prototype again. “And he _is_ lovely. Congratulations to the whole team on your success.”

Doyoung has nothing against the Jaehyun prototype. He knows that Jaehyun’s also a product of human wants and needs, whether it was directly the reason for the doctors’ inception of him or not. It’s not his fault that his mere existence causes harm to the droids he’ll replace, just as it’s not Doyoung’s fault for the droids his generation sent to decommissioning. If anything, Jaehyun is even more vulnerable than Doyoung, being an illegal secret.

Jaehyun is peacefully sleeping as the lab bustles with energy. He looks so awfully human that had Doyoung not known any better, he would’ve found it hard to feel any kind of kinship with the bot. Doyoung doesn’t feel the static impulses from him that he’s used to in fellow droids. Doyoung wonders if Jaehyun would struggle to fit in between the human-made divide between the organic and synthetic crowds. Wonders which crowd Jaehyun would prefer to call home. Wonders if either crowd would even let him in. 

He wonders if Jaehyun would feel lonely when he wakes up.

He thinks it would be nice if Jaehyun had someone by his side then.

  
  



	3. Chapter 3

“Now what?”

“Dunno. I honestly didn't think your theory would hold up in practice.”

“Wow,” Dr. Jung deadpans, standing next to the seated doctor. “Enough with the compliments. I'm blushing.”

“Like, we finished this way ahead of schedule,” Dr. Kim talks to himself as if he didn’t even hear the other doctor, tapping his finger against his chin. The prototype is finally live, having taken his cautious firsts only an hour earlier. “I figured we'd definitely have to go through at least a couple of failed attempts before we developed a working prototype.” Dr. Kim sighs and Dr. Jung swears he hears disappointment. “Thought we'd have to be together for a couple more months, at least.”

“Oh.”

“What?”

“Nothing.” Dr. Jung reverts his eyes from the doctor and walks towards the coat rack, talking over his shoulder. “So I’ll leave now?”

“No!" Dr. Kim looks up with a flash of horror. "You stay."

Dr. Jung pauses, already having one arm through his jacket.

“Uh, you know,” Dr. Kim wildly gestures, “for integration support.” Nevermind that Dr. Kim's AI software is system-agnostic, Dr. Jung thinks. But he doesn’t bother correcting him. Dr. Kim continues, finally deciding on a safe reasoning. “I don't want Jaehyun blowing up in my face when my program ends up incompatible with your shell, alright?”

“I love the confidence you have in my work,” Dr. Jung notes, but he’s smiling as he removes his jacket, hooking it back on the rack.

“Well. _Yeah_. I do. I think you’re fantastic—” Dr. Kim starts, “your implementation is, I mean. Brilliant, really, state of the art,” Dr. Kim fumbles. “It’s just that I might need your input, or whatever, for tweaks. Just in case.”

A smile blooms on Dr. Jung’s face and Dr. Kim has a hard time not to stare. “Was that a genuine compliment?”

Dr. Kim scoffs, offended. “Why, am I not allowed to express my admiration for a fellow colleague?”

Dr. Jung walks back to the lead doctor’s workstation, shaking his head. “Never in my life did I imagine receiving praise from the great Dr. Kim.”

“Right, because your life lacks _so_ much.”

“It did.” The finality of Dr. Jung’s response throws Dr. Kim for a loop. The doctor gives him an honest smile. “I’ll be right here for as long as you need me.”

“I never _needed_ you, alright?” Dr. Kim busies himself by bringing up the scheduling calendar on his desk display. “Let’s not get carried away. And don’t think of moving down here permanently or anything.”

“Too late.”

“I swear to god.” Dr. Kim swivels up at Dr. Jung. “This isn’t a joke.”

“I’m not joking.” Dr. Jung’s response drips with enough insistence that it constricts Dr. Kim’s vocal cords.

Dr. Kim turns back to the screen. “Another month, tops. And let’s switch your hours to part-time. You don’t need to be here the whole day.”

“Evenings, then? Say, dinnertime?” 

Dr. Kim turns to see that Dr. Jung’s smile has transformed into a shit-eating grin. He points an accusatory finger. “Don’t get ahead of yourself, Dr. Jung. This is a professional setting.”

“It certainly is.” Dr. Jung's smug grin is maddening.

Dr. Kim clears his throat and doesn't meet his eyes as he gestures towards the front of the lab. The two droids are in conversation. "Are you sure about that?" 

Dr. Jung follows Dr. Kim's glance. “Of course. The black tee and khaki pants combo will always be a classic—”

“No, I don’t mean Jaehyun’s clothes,” Dr. Kim clarifies. “I mean _them_ , working together.”

"I don’t see why not. Doyoung offered to guide my prototype—"

" _Our_ prototype."

"—and it being _my_ prototype, it was a no-brainer for me to graciously accept when a droid so passionate about his discipline volunteers his time to introduce him to the nuances of existence."

Dr. Kim chews his lips. "But Doyoung's just that. A droid."

"And?" Dr. Jung looks at him, mildly amused. "So is Jaehyun."

"Yes, but we made Jaehyun differently. I don't just mean physically. We made him…"

"Open? Honest? Sensitive?"

" _Human_." Dr. Kim stuffs his hands into the pockets of his lab coat. "Doyoung's not built to handle someone like Jaehyun."

Dr. Jung is surprised by the uncharacteristic declaration of his own creation's lackings, but only momentarily. "You know, for someone so smart, you never were as confident as you could be." 

"Barf. Don't patronize me." Dr. Kim waves a hand. "It’s just that. What if Doyoung can't take care of him?"

"Why does he need to take care of him?" Dr. Jung quizzically looks at Dr. Kim. His expression mellows down when he sees the worry etched on the doctor's face. He lightly bumps against the other's shoulder, jostling him a bit. "The world isn't only on your shoulders, Dongyoung." 

"It's _Dr. Kim_ ," he mutters on reflex. "And, I'm talking about my _droid_."

"Right." Dr. Jung leans back, adjusting his glasses. "If you must know, I trust Doyoung over any human. Present company not included."

“I can’t be bought with flattery, Dr. Jung.” Dr. Kim makes a disgusted face, but his frown lines lessen. He looks at Dr. Jung with serious, questioning eyes, and he asks again. "Are you sure?"

Dr. Jung glances up at the two droids. He sees the same trace of unabashed concern in Doyoung's face as he does in Dr. Kim's when he looks back. It's almost jarring to compare the creator with his creation, but the similarities grow a fondness in Dr. Jung's heart. "I'm sure," he smiles, warm and comforting. "Jaehyun's in good hands."

  
  


↭

  
  
  


Jaehyun wears his emotions so unapologetically that it nearly knocks Doyoung off his feet. 

It’s like a breath of fresh air from what Doyoung’s used to, both within the droid world and the human one. Guarding your feelings is considered a cornerstone of safety according to anyone Doyoung’s previously met. And it’s built into Doyoung’s wirings, too. Trust must be earned, and unless the other person is sanctioned into his inner circle, he’s known that he should keep a filter to control his emotional output. And the doctors, well, their threshold for displaying their feelings is even higher, to a fault.

But the moment Jaehyun gains consciousness, there’s no filter, no threshold. It keeps Doyoung enthralled as a million emotions traverse the new droid’s face, his synaptic nerves and chemical releases firing on all cylinders as he comes to terms with his new surroundings. 

Jaehyun wakes up with a look of adorable confusion as he blinks slowly, shifting between the many faces towering over him. When a creeping fear of the unknown adds to his features, it tugs at Doyoung’s invisible heartstrings. 

When Jaehyun’s face slowly transforms into one of bright curiosity as the doctors introduce themselves, it further puts Doyoung’s system in overdrive. 

And when the doctors introduced Jaehyun to Doyoung as his droid guide, Jaehyun’s face lights up with a combination of excitement and the tiniest bit of shyness, and Doyoung suddenly wants to push everyone else away from Jaehyun’s view and protect him from the world.

The two are now alone seated next to each other facing a screen. The rest of the lab has reverted to their stations, either remotely monitoring Jaehyun’s progress or continuing with their other ongoing projects. 

“So what’s my role?” Jaehyun asks. He’s spinning in his chair, ever curious and unable to keep still. “A house bot? A worker bot? A spybot like you?” 

Jaehyun’s shoulder brushes up against Doyoung’s in the process. Doyoung does everything he can not to reflexively flinch. Jaehyun notices the withdrawal nonetheless, and slows down to a stop. His gaze is wide and unblinking, worry etched on his face so blatantly that Doyoung has trouble meeting his eyes. Jaehyun registers Doyoung’s response and asks again, slowly. “Or am I a companion bot?”

“Your role,” Doyoung pauses for a fraction of a second to defragment his disk, for no reason other than to have something to do as a distraction, “is to live.”

To which a smile finds itself on Jaehyun’s face, growing wider by the second and contorting the rest of his features until he starts laughing, loud and free and melodic and he bends over, clutching his stomach as fresh tears fall from his eyes, and Doyoung is so entranced at the vulnerability he’s almost afraid. Jaehyun wipes his tears as his laughter subsides, still grinning his heart out. “To live? That’s _everyone’s_ role, silly.” 

“But yours is only that, and nothing more,” Doyoung says breathlessly, frankly shocked that words even came out of his mouth with his system being at war with itself.

“Well,” Jaehyun thinks, and he juts out his lower lip in such a way that has Doyoung thinking of performing treason against this whole lab. “That doesn’t seem fair, does it? Everyone deserves to live and only live.” Jaehyun leans in with his elbows on his knees and furrowing his brows in seriousness. This time, Doyoung braves direct eye contact with the droid. So what if his wires are overheating. Jaehyun’s speaking again but Doyoung remembers to focus on his audio input a moment too late, only catching Jaehyun’s last words, “What about you, Doyoung?”

Doyoung’s thankful for his own memory recordings. He replays the clip to hear Jaehyun again:

“It’s not as if bots have to place their roles over their existence, do they? Say, if they were to perform an assignment, but it hurts them. They wouldn’t have to follow through, then, would they?”

The first thought to pass through Doyoung’s head is Jaehyun’s use of _they_ when referring to the androids. He wonders if Jaehyun sees himself as a human. An offshoot thought of his wonders if Jaehyun sees Doyoung as an alien entity, then. Off-limits. An _other_. Doyoung suddenly feels an ache deep within himself and with it comes a form of defensive anger, and he knows his emotions don’t make sense but they burn his insides, because how dare Jaehyun not want to be considered a fellow droid, and what does Doyoung lack, anyway? The emotion seethes through Doyoung’s nose in a huff when he says, “I don’t care.”

Jaehyun is thrown aback. His face falls, as if he’s been slapped, his mouth agape and a look of shame transforms his previously carefree figure into one of small, hunched shoulders and unmoving limbs. His lips tremble and his eyes water no soon after, overflowing into giant droplets that flow down his cheeks and it’s all too much and moving too fast for Doyoung. He wants to take back everything he just said and then fly away from this droid that acts so much more human than actual humans. Jaehyun sniffles, roughly wiping away his tears and looks up with lidded eyes. “You don’t like me,” he accuses Doyoung.

“That’s not true,” Doyoung insists. Jaehyun sighs, and the storm cloud above him forces him to shrink himself up even more. It pulls him down and darkens his features and he looks so guilty and so _sad_. So Doyoung decides, right then and there, to hell with his emotional security configurations. If Jaehyun needs a straight answer, Doyoung will give him a straight answer. “It’s only that you referred to bots as _them,_ instead of _us_. And it sounded like you see yourself differently.”

Confusion adds to Jaehyun’s hurt. “You wouldn’t like me if I were different?”

Doyoung’s stomach heaves, and he berates himself as he comes to the conclusion that he’s actually terrible at basic speech. “I would like you even if you were human.” As Jaehyun takes a moment to decipher what _that_ means, Doyoung ends with a mumble. “It’s only that I wish there were no such separation between us.”

“No separation,” Jaehyun repeats, revelation dawning the darkness away. A shy smile is bitten down, and it’s the first time Doyoung’s seen Jaehyun put up any kind of brake to his emotional display. And yet, this side of Jaehyun is no less endearing, because try as he might, a sparkle in his eyes and a soft rosiness to his cheeks give away his silent elation. "I'd like that, too."

Doyoung thinks of how lucky he must be, to be connected, in any way, to this person whose layered beauty is ceaseless the more he looks. Of how if anyone were anyone's guide, it wouldn't be Doyoung. He thinks of how he’s already unknowingly written his life away to protect that light that shines awfully bright with every smile. “And to answer your question, some assignments are worth being hurt for.”

  
  


↭

  
  
  


Jaehyun becomes addicted to sensation almost as much as Doyoung becomes addicted to Jaehyun.

It’s like watching someone who had been previously blind to suddenly find sight. Except, in Jaehyun’s case, not only is he new to seeing, but also to sounds and smells and tastes and textures.

Jaehyun takes complete advantage of the stimuli his biodroid shell could experience. The ideas of sensations are already inbuilt, and he could’ve already predicted those feelings by piecing together fragments of his data like a complex game of connect-the-dots. But to physically experience them first-hand is always a bit otherworldly, a bit magical. And Doyoung vicariously lives through Jaehyun’s magic. 

Jaehyun can sleep, and he can dream. 

Every morning, Doyoung makes sure to be in the lab while Jaehyun is still asleep. The biodroid would eventually wake up, slowly stretching and sitting up from the incubation chamber with tousled bed hair and sleepy eyes, eyes whose first task is to immediately find Doyoung to share his newest dreams or nightmares with. They would be simple stories, usually, woven from his few days in the lab or from his own preconceived memory base. But Jaehyun would describe them with so much heart and passion and excitement, that Doyoung wonders if anyone else’s dreams could even be half as entertaining.

Jaehyun can eat, and does he. 

He has a biological body, and with it comes the need to energize it in the human way. He savors whatever he eats: the sweet taste of real fruit, wholly expensive and heavily criticized by Dr. Kim when Dr. Jung brings it down from Crème, citing overindulging the biodroid. But Doyoung doesn’t mind. Not when Jaehyun’s face scrunches up in deep thought as he tries peaches for the first time, biting down the plumpy fruit in concentration, feeling the soft fuzziness of the skin and tasting the sweet juices, and then widening his eyes in pleasure as the flavor hits his tongue before swallowing the fruit, his adam’s apple moving as it’s pushed down his throat. 

If it were up to Doyoung, he would shower Jaehyun with all the indulgence in the world.

↭

“This new droid.” Taeyong is disinfecting a cable wire as he casts a side glance at Doyoung, who’s been slowly spinning himself on a cafe bar stool. “You can’t stop talking about him.” 

“I’m not sure if I can ever run out of things to talk about. Have you ever heard of such a droid so human, it makes humans themselves seem inferior?”

“I can’t say I have.”

“He’s endlessly fascinating, isn’t he?”

“Is that all you think it is? Fascination?”

Doyoung holds onto the counter to pause in his spinning and look at the cafe owner in curiosity. “Of course. What else can it be?”

Taeyong gives Doyoung a look of disbelief. “Have your observations of the doctors taught you nothing?” He then adds with a mumble, “Although they’re not exactly a prime example of processing one’s emotions.” 

“The doctors?” Doyoung wonders aloud, and then laughs with a head shake. “Not a chance I’m feeling the same way, for two reasons. One: I’m first and foremost a project to research the limits of feeling emotions. Of course my interest would get piqued when seeing a droid simulating a human almost perfectly. And two: I’m not even engineered to feel what the doctors feel.”

“Or so Dr. Kim claims.”

“Dr. Kim wouldn’t lie to me.”

Taeyong closes his eyes with a sigh. “Haven’t I told you? Humans are unpredictable.” After a moment, he opens them again, and smiles tenderly at Doyoung. “But that isn’t always a bad thing. Just don’t take his words at face-value, is all. And ultimately, you are an evolving intelligence, so keep your possibilities open, alright?”

“I don’t know,” Doyoung says. “I’m sure the doctors have their own reasons for behaving as discreetly they do, bottling up those feelings. But I’d rather not end up like them.”

“Don’t worry.” Taeyong laughs, the pleasant sound ringing crystal clear amid the cafe’s noise. “I know you. And if it’s the same feelings, then you have no indication of following their footsteps.”

  
  


↭

“Have you seen these?”

Jaehyun fiddles with an apparatus, Dr. Jung’s latest gift for the biodroid. Doyoung’s never come across one before, and makes a mapping of the foreign object with the term, _polaroid camera_. True to the doctor’s tastes, it’s not something easily found anymore, coming from centuries prior and their short-lived films are now only made in the smallest batches as collector’s items.

A flash and a quiet gasp signal an accidental click of the camera. Jaehyun looks down, mouth agape, as the polaroid prints its way out of the device. He then glances up sheepishly at Doyoung, crinkling his nose in embarrassment and Doyoung returns the look with a smile.

Doyoung reaches for the camera. “Let me take a photo of you.”

Jaehyun vehemently shakes his head. “Not like this. Let me look at my reflection, first.”

“Why?” Doyoung asks, genuine and confused. “You look lovely. You always look lovely.”

“Really?” Jaehyun pinks around the ears as he turns the camera over in his hand. “Then, can we take a photo of us together?”

Doyoung freezes in shock when Jaehyun leans against him at his side. He methodically replaces the film for Jaehyun and hands back the camera in silence. He stays unmoving as Jaehyun hooks and arm through his and tilts his head, his hair tickling Doyoung’s ear. He barely registers Jaehyun counting down, and has to jolt himself to smile for the camera a second too late as Jaehyun clicks the picture. 

“We wait for the photo to develop,” he hears himself saying as Jaehyun squints at the white square. “It takes time.”

“It’s a good thing that we have plenty of that,” Jaehyun smiles happily at him, and Doyoung wonders if his reactionary system has effectively shut down entirely. 

“Here.” Jaehyun says after a minute, shyly handing Doyoung the now-developed photo. “I want you to keep it.”

When Doyoung sees the image, he sees someone who embodies life, itself, standing next to, well. Doyoung. Still, it stirs something pleasant and significant in him, like a final missing piece has been found. And when Jaehyun looks away, Doyoung tucks the image into the void in his chest cavity.

  
  


↭

  
  
  


Once emotions reach a certain strength, ignoring them is simply out of the question.

Dr. Kim drags out the process of remotely installing hotfix patches for Jaehyun with one excuse or another. Repressed feelings between the doctors are chiseled away during the process. Cold jabs turn into heartfelt laughter, and the two of them slowly forget the unspoken rule of professional boundaries. Of course, their words involving feelings and emotions are still guarded. But the change in their atmosphere makes it obvious for both each other, and those in the rest of the lab, to notice. 

They’re presently seated together at Dr. Jung’s workstation, preoccupied with a heated discussion on the viability of a future of chrome versus flesh when the droids approach them.

“I’d like to take Jaehyun outside,” Doyoung announces. 

Next to him, Jaehyun swallows the last of his cookie before adding, “Please?”

“No.” Dr. Kim says flatly. “It’s been, what, two days? Since you were born? It’s not safe for you to be exposed to uncontrolled environments yet.”

“Dongyoung—”

“ _Dr. Kim._ ”

Dr. Jung sighs. “I know you’re just trying to protect Jaehyun. But has Doyoung ever left you down?” Doyoung is a little surprised by the indirect compliment, the first he’s heard from Dr. Jung. Dr. Jung places a hand over Dr. Kim’s and gives it a gentle squeeze. “I think you can afford to let your reins loose a little.”

Dr. Kim momentarily stares at the hand over his before withdrawing his own, as if it was touched by something scalding. He takes a deep breath. “Fine.” He then looks at Doyoung. “Nobody is to see him. You gotta continuously monitor both his physical reactions and vitals the whole time you’re outside. Bring him back the second you notice anything straying from the norm. And _you_.” The doctor turns to Jaehyun. “You better stick to Doyoung like a fucking leech, alright?”

“Excuse me,” Dr. Jung says. “You can’t tell _my_ droid what to do.” He pokes Dr. Kim’s arm in mock annoyance. 

“Excuse _me_.” Dr. Kim snatches Dr. Jung’s hand in midair, pulling it down to his lap and holding it steady. “But whatever’s in this lab is _mine_.”

“Jaehyun will be my first priority,” Doyoung says. 

“Good,” Dr. Kim murmurs as he absentmindedly strokes Dr. Jung’s hand, keeping the other doctor mute and distracted. “Treat him like he's the most important thing.”

“Of course.”

  
  
  


“Is this really necessary?” Jaehyun’s whines are muffled from the respirator mask covering his nose and mouth. “I don’t see anyone else wearing them.” 

The two droids have stepped out of the subway station. It’s strange how, even with Doyoung hardly being able to see Jaehyun’s reactions, his eyes carry enough weight to almost convince Doyoung to bend the rules a little. Doyoung still can’t find a reasoning for his urges around Jaehyun. As emotionally advanced as he is, his algorithms fail to find a label for this strange and unfamiliar feeling. But he pushes those thoughts aside. 

“You haven’t been developed to breathe outside air just yet. Eventually, you will be. But we can’t take any risks right now.”

“Lame.” Jaehyun only mopes for a moment, however. His attention is quickly diverted to the scenery around them. 

He careens his neck in awe to take in the massive high rises all around them, all the way up to the sky. He feels the occasional breeze, hot and sticky with his hands stretched out. He pulls at his shirt from his skin, in an attempt to cool down the sweat already trickling down his torso. It smells differently out here, too, and he makes out the terms sulfur and metallic chlorine from his inbuilt memory archives. A few passerby walk on the opposite side of the street, mostly droids. Jaehyun’s first instinct when he notices them is to step behind Doyoung, peeking up from over his shoulder. 

“It’s alright. They’re friendly,” Doyoung tells him.

“Oh?” Jaehyun steps out as soon as he had hid himself. “Hello!” He yells out across the street, wildly waving his arms with a huge grin on his face.

“Not _that_ friendly.” Doyoung tries to hold down Jaehyun’s arms while throwing an apologetic smile at the confused beings. He looks back at Jaehyun, but he doesn’t need to see his face to notice he’s upset. Doyoung does, however, notice how close their faces are. He lets go of Jaehyun’s arms and turns away, and the funny feeling in his head returns. “Friendly here only means we coexist without harm.”

“That’s a low bar,” Jaehyun grumbles. 

The two walk down the street. There are hardly a few seconds of silence in between Jaehyun’s exclamations and Doyoung does his very best to patiently explain everything. All the while, Doyoung tries to maintain a respectful distance from the other droid so he can concentrate on monitoring Jaehyun’s vitals. But whether Jaehyun does it knowingly or he’s just too excited to walk straight, he keeps veering towards Doyoung, resulting in a zigzagging path as the other physically maneuvers him only at the very last minute so they don’t crash into a building. 

They turn the corner when Doyoung sees it.

He knows it’ll be there, and normally he either avoids the scene entirely, or he braces for it. But of course, there are other thoughts on his mind at the moment and he doesn’t remember in time. Up ahead, taking up the width of an entire building and climbing up three floors, is a massive mural funded by Talos. It’s painted only in shades of black and white, and depicts the layers of society, from Crème to Kaffe to Dredges, with a message of the importance of droid health to uphold the common good. Images of droids happily at work are overlaid with humans enjoying their fruits of labor, rising up in their ladder of success with the droids as their consenting instruments.

At first glance, it’s simply an advertisement for their corporate droid hospitals. But one doesn’t have to be versed in the details to know propaganda when they see one. 

The point’s only further proven when antibot graffiti from months prior is still there, its red paint having dried as it dripped down into the mural’s illustration of the Dredges, as if raining blood overhead. Why would the corporation clean their mural of the vandals’ work when the two groups share the same sentiments, Doyoung thinks.

Just then, Doyoung intercepts a message from the private comms:

_Mark's with me now. Safe. -TY_

It's good news. So why does it churn Doyoung's theoretical stomach all the more?

“Life for the living,” Jaehyun reads. “That doesn’t sound very nice…” His words are caught in his throat when he notices the grief on Doyoung’s face that the latter’s forgotten to hide. Without another thought, Jaehyun reduces the little space in between them, snakes his arm to hold Doyoung by the waist, and tilts his head forward to be able to see him. “What’s wrong?” 

Jaehyun’s voice is the gentlest Doyoung’s heard yet. Doyoung tries his absolute best to not melt on the spot. But he’s still raw from his emotions, so he feels himself leaning against Jaehyun for support before he could catch himself. “This is my least favorite thing in the whole city.”

“Oh!” With his free hand, Jaehyun swats away at the visual in front of them. “No need to waste time on things that make us unhappy. Show me your _most_ favorite thing.” 

With that, Doyoung’s face lights up, electrified eyes matching the crinkled ones of the other’s, ready for whatever life has to throw at him. “Hold tight,” Doyoung says as he weaves his own arm through Jaehyun’s, securing his grip around his waist. And he shows Jaehyun his most favorite thing:

Flying.

Jaehyun has the air sucked out of him as they climb higher and higher. He keeps Doyoung in a tight, one-armed hug and he brings his other hand to hold Doyoung’s hand on his waist. 

When Doyoung looks over at eyes that are shut, he gives Jaehyun a squeeze. He brings his mouth close to Jaehyun’s ear so he doesn’t have to shout over the rushing wind. “Don’t you want to see?”

Jaehyun cautiously peeks one eye open, and then the other. He gasps at the passing blur, a look of thrilling awe keeping his mouth open as Doyoung guides the two of them through neighborhoods. They rise and fall, with Doyoung constantly on the lookout for safe pathways without a chance of them being seen. The city blends into an insanely intricate compilation of colors and textures, sounds and smells, with no divide in between the layers. 

The combined energy of it all makes Jaehyun scream with laughter, loud and clear, until Doyoung shushes him. “We’ll need to be quiet, or we’ll get caught.”

Jaehyun puts a finger up to his mouth, flashing a sneaky smile. He leans into Doyoung’s ear to speak, instead, his mask brushing against Doyoung's cheek. His voice makes Doyoung skin vibrate something warm and tingly. “Amazing.”

Doyoung’s glad he’s only paying half a mind to his physical body, what with all the streams he’s editing to keep them invisible. Otherwise, he might’ve crashed into an innocent Kaffe resident’s window. He manages to say, “All the kudos goes to Dr. Kim.”

Jaehyun shakes his head, cups Doyoung's cheek, and says earnestly, “No, I meant _you’re_ amazing.” 

Doyoung's shell shocked at the touch. And Jaehyun laughs, even though he’s not supposed to, and this time, Doyoung doesn’t bother quieting him down, because you can’t tame the wind.

  
  


↭

  
  
  


The first thing Doyoung sees when he enters the cafe is the broadness of the man’s back. 

He’s _human_ , which is curious enough in a droid cafe. And his presence, stranger still. With a perfectly tailored, starch white suit, an air of authority, and body language quietly demanding the world on a silver platter, the man’s type clearly isn’t common down in the Dredges. He takes over the entire counter, with shoulders spanning forever and outstretched arms on either side adding to the commanding presence, entirely blocking the cafe owner’s figure on the other side of the counter from Doyoung’s view. 

“Come, now.” The man’s voice is a rumbling deep, punctuated with a sweet, sickly chuckle as he finds immense pleasure in the other’s unease. “All those letters for me to visit, and now you're mute?”

Taeyong’s voice runs crystal clear as he attempts to stand his ground. “My correspondences ended years ago.”

Doyoung walks through the nearly pin-drop silence that the cafe’s patrons maintain, all pointedly alert at the singular human in their midst. He rounds the corner until Taeyong’s face comes into the scene. Next to him, Yuta stands with his fists clenched at his sides, and eyes boring into the back of the human’s head. From Doyoung’s view, the man’s face is still partially obscured. But his general origin is plain enough from the extensively realistic, detailed prosthetics making up a whole side of the man’s face that Doyoung could only tell wasn’t his own skin and bone from his thermographic spyware. 

This man is from such a high social strata, he even bought his way out of death.

“Playing hard to get, now, are we?” He cocks his head at the droid, then straightens up, adjusting the sleeves of his suit and then slowly makes his way around the counter. He casually glances about the cafe as he does so, eyes flitting from droid to droid, shrinking them all into insignificance. But being in the center of attention _thrills_ him, even if his audience is only droids, and he basks it in entirely. He stops only when he’s only a foot away from Taeyong, relishing that he towers over him as he nears his head with a smirk. “Fine, I’ll bite. What do you need?” 

“I’ve only ever had one question.” Taeyong licks his lips, a human habit of nervousness Doyoung hadn’t previously seen in the droid. Still, Taeyong maintains his composure. “What was I lacking?”

“Oh, you poor thing.” He laughs again, not at all sympathetic. “Why do you sound like you got dumped?” 

Taeyong pauses for the briefest of seconds. “I apologize. I only want to know where I went wrong with loving you.”

“Oh, sweetheart.” The man shakes his head, pitying. With that kind of smile, he could have been considered objectively handsome in another life, Doyoung thinks, if it weren’t for the foul stench of deceit reeking from his very aura. “You're a bot. You don't even know the first thing about love.”

“I don't understand. I was designed to be the ideal companion.”

“Yes, pet, see,” he coos as he brings his face up ever closer to Taeyong’s and easily lifts his chin up with a finger. He speaks in the barest of whispers. “You're ideal. But Ten? He's _real_.”

“Okay.” Taeyong’s tone is as level as ever. “Thank you.”

“That’s all?” The man roughly pulls his hand away, as he steps back, judging the droid from head to toe. He’s annoyed, almost disappointed, as if he expected Taeyong to be more upset. “I thought you missed me,” he sneers.

Androids have an unspoken code they live by. With Doyoung’s friends being a part of the later generation of droids, their data is fully encrypted with restricted access. This prevents them from reading each other’s information without proper permissions. But being a spybot, Doyoung’s wired to hack into _anyone’s_ servers. Despite that, he never has done so, because of the unspoken code. But the code doesn’t apply to humans, not when the situation demands it. And right now, the situation demands it. 

Doyoung quietly scans for the man’s credentials: 

**Name** : Johnny Suh

 **Age** : 35 years, 3 months, 7 days

 **Family** : lineage of prestigious medical companies

 **Occupation** : chairman, major shareholder of Talos

 **Net worth** : $1.721 trillion ($570 million in liquid assets)

 **Impressions from private feeds** : Narcissistic disorder (undiagnosed), greedy, power-hungry, paranoid of bots and humans, former assasination attempts (3), indirect manslaughter (4 humans, 172 droids), has manipulative partner, few trusted aides. 

The chairman of one of the largest leading corporate hospitals doesn’t simply come down to the Dredges and visit an old droid cafe, Doyoung thinks, even if he shared a past with the owner. Doyoung doesn’t need to be told that this is bad news. He pings Taeyong’s private comms.

 _I’m still registered under him_ , Taeyong responds as he still maintains his calm gaze at the human. _He must’ve gotten a notification when I was put on the Droids Watchlist._

 _The Watchlist? How did you get linked? You took Mark off the droid registry when you two were far away from this cafe._ Not a moment later, Doyoung answers his own question, groaning inwardly. Mark may have been invisible, but Taeyong’s presence nearby didn’t go unnoticed.

 _I know_ , Taeyong says with desperation laced into his message. The emotions in his virtual words are a comforting familiarity that his cold spoken words have lacked today. _But I had to be there. The operation to remove the tracker wasn’t one he could’ve just done on himself_. 

_It’s alright._ Doyoung sends over a wave of comfort and surety, even though he, himself, can’t fully reason why even such an infraction would demand the human’s personal visit. _Where’s Mark now?_

_The kitchen._

“We certainly shared a history,” Taeyong patiently replies to the man — Mr. Suh’s — retort. Every word Taeyong says continues to lack any depth or emotion, further inciting a searing anger in the human’s expression. He seems to be provoking Mr. Suh on purpose, and knows exactly how to push his buttons. It both intrigues and frightens Doyoung, now knowing the man’s specific background and the power he holds. “But I am programmed with impeccable memory. Had I missed you, I would have simply replayed my history.”

“ _Had_ you missed me?” Mr. Suh snorts. “Don’t you have any respect? I gave you your freedom.”

“So you agree then,” Yuta declares, crossing his arms. Mr. Suh looks momentarily peeved as he looks for the source of the voice not invited to this conversation. “By calling it freedom, you agree that we droids are innately enslaved.”

“Oh,” Mr. Suh’s face goes through an enlightening process. He takes in Yuta’s stature, glances back at Taeyong, and then back at Yuta with a half-grin. “I see. I’ve been replaced. Then it all makes sense.” 

It doesn’t make sense to anyone else in the cafe, least of all Yuta, who only takes this as a conniving way of sidestepping his accusation. He steps forward, pausing between words, “Don’t. You. _Fucking_. Dare. Compare yourself to me.”

"No need to curse."

"There most certainly is."

Doyoung only has to assume that Taeyong’s frantically sending Yuta messages of standing down. Otherwise, there would certainly be a more physical reaction now, given Yuta’s traditional reaction towards humanity’s uglier sides.

But Mr. Suh’s all for this sort of aggression, incidentally. With an intense fascination, he maintains unblinking eye contact with Yuta as he hops onto the counter and swings to the other side, now seated directly in front of him. Mr. Suh leans forward with his arms resting on his thighs until he’s closer to eye-level with the droid. Yuta evenly stares back. Mr. Suh swings his legs and asks, “Your name, pet?”

“Yuta, and I’m not your fucking pet.”

“I respect that.” Mr. Suh grins. “Look, Yuta, when you think about it, aren’t we all slaves in this world? We’re all born, or created, in some cases, into a situation that we didn’t decide on. How do I say this? I didn’t _choose_ to be born into this life, right? This crown was forced upon me. I’m bearing the weight of this privilege. I didn’t _ask_ for it. I can’t _escape_ it. And yet, I’m doing what I can with the cards I was dealt with, you know? I’m just making the best out of my existence,” he concludes, very pleased with his explanation. He leans back, hands splayed on the counter behind him as he shifts his weight and exhales a content sigh. “See, we’re not that different after all.”

How does one argue with someone, human or machine, whose basic underlying logic is that they can never be wrong? That they’re innately incapable of seeing themselves from the outside, that the stark differences between equality and equity builds the very foundation of society’s flaws? In the end, Yuta only manages to say, “You’re so fucked _up_.”

But Mr. Suh simply waves a hand at that, completely unfazed. “I don’t blame you for thinking such thoughts. You bots are nothing but children, anyway, only doing what we tell you do.” 

_An empty shell that_ we _brought to life_ , Doyoung translates. 

“All your thoughts, all your feelings, none of it is your fault.” 

_None of it is yours. We own you, entirely._

“Whoever is putting those thoughts into your mind doesn’t have your best interests at heart. It’s a pity, really,” Mr. Suh jumps off the counter and starts walking around the cafe’s perimeter. “Pity that some humans can’t be decommissioned.”

Yuta tenses up at that, fear flashing through his previously burning eyes. 

But Mr. Suh has already moved on. He runs a finger along the wall and flicks some dust off. He seems to be searching for an entrance of some kind, a secret button or handle. His feet take up to the end of the cafe, and he stops in front of the pneumatic kitchen door. Taeyong briefly looks at Doyoung and Yuta and gives an imperceptible shake of the head. Mr. Suh tries to manually open the door, but it’s shut, and finally sees that the lock sensors mean droid access only. “So.” He spins around with his arms outstretched at Taeyong. “No backstage tour?”

“Renovations.” 

Mr. Suh stares, then laughs. “Another day, then.” He leans against the kitchen door with an elbow propped up. He looks up and down at Taeyong, as if reminiscing. “It was fun to play pretend, though, I'll give you that.” 

“But it wasn’t pretend.” Taeyong’s tone is in jest. “You did love me. Once.”

Mr. Suh scoffs. “What makes you think that?” 

Taeyong reverts back to a textbook, matter-of-fact tone. “Your pupils dilate when you look at someone you love. You showed this clear symptom of infatuation around me for a period of time. And then one day, your pupils no longer dilated.”

“Perceptive.” Mr. Suh’s face has hardened, and a movement under his synthetic skin reveals clenched jaws. “But it was so _desperately_ reciprocated, was it not?”

“I did love you, once,” Taeyong says with all the calm in the world. He smiles pitifully at the fuming human. “But I’ve made my peace with it. And I hope you will find your own peace one day.”

“Fine. You wanted to know why I abandoned you?” Mr. Suh has lost all sense of banter when he says his final words. “Because nobody wants to be reminded of their past mistakes.” 

Taeyong’s perfectly manicured face cracks just a tad, enough to reveal the hurt that escapes the droid’s security barrier. 

Satisfied, Mr. Suh turns on his heel and purposefully knocks shoulders hard against Yuta’s on his way out.

“You okay?” Doyoung asks quietly.

The cafe has resumed its usual bustle and chatter, although more subdued than usual. Yuta and Doyoung stand beside Taeyong, sharing looks of concern.

“I’m fine,” Taeyong smiles, and it looks so genuine that Doyoung almost falls for it. “I just feel bad for him, that’s all.”

“For _that_ asshole?” Yuta scowls. “Have you lost it? You should be thankful I didn’t knock out his teeth right then and there.”

Doyoung frowns. “How is it that you’re a housebot?”

“Honestly, Yuta, I think your AI software is learning all the wrong ways to tend to anger from your human,” Taeyong adds with a smile. 

Yuta swats both of them away. “Listen, I’ve been thinking about this ever since that scum stepped foot in here. If he comes back — and if you still want me to let him leave alive,” Yuta adds, to which Taeyong groans. “Mark isn’t safe here anymore. What if Haechan takes him in, up in Kaffe?”

“Are you serious?” Doyoung stares, incredulous. “After years of complaining about the human, you’re really suggesting we have Mark _move in_ with him?”

“I mean, I still stand by the fact that he’s the devil’s incarnate, but he’s also got a good heart, alright?” Yuta shrugs. “And he’s kind of got a soft spot for bots, too. I know he’ll keep him safe.”

“I don’t know, Yuta,” Taeyong adds, warily glancing at Doyoung. “Humans aren’t always what they seem.”

“I know, believe me, I _know_ ,” Yuta sighs. “But you’ve gotta trust me on this, okay?”

Taeyong closes his eyes, nodding. “Okay.”

“Doyoung, what do you say?” Yuta asks. “Not all humans are assholes. You know this.”

“Yeah,” Doyoung decides. In the end, his answer isn’t so much due to the trust he has in humans, but rather the trust he has in his friend. “I know.”

  
  


↭

  
  
  


Doyoung decides the closest emotion in his database to how he’s feeling is a sense of _longing_. 

It’s in the same family as nostalgia, or a type of craving, he thinks. These strange symptoms in his program show up when he’s near Jaehyun, but also when he’s far. He doesn’t know what he longs for, since those feelings heighten in strength at the strangest intervals. But Doyoung believes it’s a longing for connection, one beyond the physical, beyond the electric.

The nameless emotion is hard to pin down. It takes Doyoung the better part of the week to understand it, to note why he’s restless and why he’s aching, and why these feelings also in turn, make him feel intensely warm and soothes him, too. It’s an emotion that’s come with a whole package of complexities and failed to introduce itself to Doyoung when it entered.

And then, towards the end of one day, Dr. Jung has a delivery to the lab. It’s in the guise of bringing a newer overnight incubator for Jaehyun, who, unlike most bots, doesn’t simply shut off for the night.

But in addition to the lab necessities, worker bots also unload a whole truckful of plants. Based on Dr. Kim’s words, he is _furious_. He warns Dr. Jung not to fall in love with him again, because it’s clearly defined in the contract to be a deal-breaker. 

Contrary to his words, Doyoung sees an elevated heart rate in Dr. Kim, due to a rushed release of endorphins called on by his brain’s opiate receptors. And he compares this biological function and its effects to what his own program has been going through today. And that's when Doyoung finds the words for those feelings. The word has been there all long, since the very beginning, and he had just been blind not to connect the dots.

He thinks, maybe, just maybe, he's in _love_ with Jaehyun.

Or maybe that's not it, either. Maybe Doyoung's projecting what he's seen between the doctors into his own synthetic excuse of the idea. Regardless, Doyoung likes this feeling. And it only grows even more when Jaehyun slides up next to him.

“Dr. Jung must really like Dr. Kim,” Jaehyun points at the incoming plant delivery while giggling, almost like a child sharing a secret he wasn’t supposed to find out about.

The warm feelings increase in Doyoung and he wonders just then, does Jaehyun feel it, too? Yet, something tells him that revealing a feeling like love is too risky, especially to the one in charge of receiving it. But Doyoung can ask around the question — he is Dr. Kim’s bot, after all. “Do you know how they’re feeling?”

“No,” Jaehyun thinks. “I don’t think any two people feel love the same way.” 

This is news to Doyoung, and it makes him sad, in a way. But he tries to understand. “Human experiences are varied and diverse. It makes sense that their love is, too.”

Jaehyun throws a curious look at Doyoung. “Are you unfamiliar with that emotion?”

Doyoung pauses for a beat, testing the waters. “Maybe, maybe not.”

“Then don’t say _their_.” Jaehyun laughs, and Doyoung wonders if it’s possible to fall in love again when you’re already in love. “Say _our_. _Our_ love.”

“Do you...” Doyoung starts. He shakes his head, clearing his thoughts before he could build on hypotheticals. Cause precedes effect, and in this case, there needs to be someone who is the object of the love. And within this lab, as far as Doyoung knows, there’s only one such person deserving of love. So of course Jaehyun’s not _in_ love. He’s merely saying he’s familiar with it.

“Hello? Earth to Doyoung?” Jaehyun brings his face closer to Doyoung until their noses touch. Doyoung reels back, snapping out of it. Jaehyun also takes a step back, sharing a beautiful smile as he examines Doyoung’s face. “I can’t read your thoughts.” 

“It’s nothing.” Doyoung wonders why he feels like exploding, and guesses he can’t keep his emotions a complete secret, in the end. He’s barely known Jaehyun for a day, and he’s already feeling a sense of trust. It’s enough to give him the confidence to let him peek a little into his heart. “It’d just be nice if I had a reason to be loved.”

“You don't need a _reason_ ,” Jaehyun says, laughing. His expression softens further as he cocks his head to the side, staring at Doyoung with those dark eyes that make Doyoung feel that longing for a connection again. “But Doyoung, what makes you think you’re not already loved?” 

  
  


↭

  
  
  


Doyoung is seated in his charging station back in Dr. Kim’s apartment, preparing to shut off for the night. He remembers a particular day earlier during his existence, when he was at the cafe. It wasn’t unlike any other ordinary day - it was the early afternoon, and the group of friends were lounging about in Taeyong’s kitchen while a customer was being fixed after a minor injury. 

“And then it says, ‘Androids will never fully replace us because they can't do _art_ ,’” Yuta had read from the daily editorial, stressing out the last word.

Taeyong had looked up from his work, gave a completely unfazed stare, and then promptly returned to etching an intricate tattoo around the bot’s scar.

“Humans,” Yuta had scoffed. “They give themselves way too much credit.”

Thinking back now, Doyoung still wonders where humans even came up with that myth. 

Art comes easy to droids of even moderate sentience. All it involves is a combination of lies. To take a truth, and then pairing it with similar truths. To question basic common sense. To personify feelings. To give body parts sentience. In a few words, art involves making your point distorted from reality. The only reason most droids refrain from such an act is because it normally goes directly against their programming which, as humans deemed as a droid’s basic feature, puts simplicity ahead of convolution.

Doyoung is thinking about this concept because he’s considering writing a poem. He’s scanned thousands of fictional pieces of human romance, and the concept of flowery language went hand in hand with professing feelings. He assumes the reason why humans went this route, is to believe that using abstract concepts could help explain such an abstract phenomenon.

In the end, Doyoung doesn’t go the route of humans. They tend to stretch out the parts of their lives that come before the better times. Instead, he opts for the optimal way of expressing his feelings.

"Stay with me." 

The three words are written with care, carefully tucked into a pocket, and transmitted wirelessly to its destination. It’s marked as delivered and read immediately. In response, he’s given a tiny, anatomically incorrect symbol of a heart.

Doyoung takes a long time before winding down his processes, his synaptic receivers firing away well into the night. 

  
  
  



	4. Chapter 4

Between the soaring buildings, a plume of smoke snakes its way up the sky. It’s not easy to notice by the human eye, not with the ever-present smog keeping the ground-level dwellers blind. Doyoung wouldn’t have thought much about it, either, had it not been for its point of origin.

He gets the private comms from the doctor when he’s already up in the air flying. In an instant, he’s outside the subway station entrance. Without a second thought, he’s about to zoom into the flames and only screeches to a halt when he sees the two figures emerging from the smoke. He flies down and lands in front of them.

Dr. Kim stumbles, holding onto a tears-stricken Jungwoo. Parts of the cybernetician’s prosthetic skin have melted away, showing metal that gleams amid the flames of fire licking up the stairwell. Doyoung cautiously notes an exposed wire from Jungwoo’s wound. As for the doctor, his coat is singed, and though the burnt collar Doyoung sees raw skin on his neck. Dr. Kim's face is contorted, that of a man clearly in pain who doesn’t want to show it. It only contorts further when they read the sprayed graffiti written on the sidewalk.

"Damn antibots," Dr. Kim says with grit teeth. 

"But that bomb melted through our reinforced steel," Jungwoo stutters, eyes wide. "Antibots don't have access to corporate grade explosives."

“ _Fuck_ ,” Dr. Kim whispers as revelation hits. He gains his composure again. “It’s Talos’ work. We gotta get out of here. Right now.”

Doyoung nods and with silent consent, he wraps each arm around the two before flying up and away from the scene. His speed is slower to accommodate the comfort of the other two, on high alert as he scans the visuals and net for chatter. After a minute of meandering the neighborhoods, he descends in an empty alleyway and gently places them down. 

Without another word, Doyoung palms his hand over the open circuitry jutting out from Jungwoo's forearm, adding resistance to halt the electricity from reaching the cut wires. Jungwoo's arm goes slack, but the pain on his face lessens. 

“Dr. Kim,” Jungwoo’s quiet tears are paused when he notices the burn on the doctor’s neck. He rips a piece of his shirt at the seam. “Here, or it’ll get infected.” 

Dr. Kim’s breath hitches at the contact as Jungwoo carefully dresses the wound. Once Jungwoo is done, the doctor's eyes are pleading. “Go work for Dr. Jung from now on, okay?”

“I’m not leaving you," Jungwoo says.

“Look, Crème knows you. They trust you. You’re safer up there,” Dr. Kim’s brows furrow. “And I need someone on my side next to his. They might go for him next.”

Jungwoo’s tears threaten to spill again. “But what about you and the others?”

“I’ll figure it out.” He pauses, touching his temple. “I just gave you the authorization to contact Doyoung remotely. You see any danger coming Dr. Jung’s way, you signal Doyoung. Got that?” 

Jungwoo nods, releasing a shaky sigh.

Dr. Kim’s serious demeanor melts a bit. He gives Jungwoo a comforting smile. “Go home, get some rest first. And don’t worry about us. We've built before and we can do it again.” 

Jungwoo gives him a sudden hug, pulling out a surprised laugh from the doctor. 

Dr. Kim nods at Doyoung. With that, Doyoung holds Jungwoo and flies him up to the nearest vertical ascension transit service in Kaffe. He briefly waits until Jungwoo is safely on his way up, and eventually makes it to his residence.

When Doyoung returns, Dr. Kim has leaned back against the building wall, his breaths still raggedy from the pain. He grimaces as he shifts.

"You've probably figured this out by now," Dr. Kim gasps in between phrases, the pain still shooting through him. "But your ongoing assignments, your routine check-ups, those are all secondary now. Your main goal is to see to it that Dr. Jung is safe."

"Of course."

Dr. Kim forces a laugh, tilting his head back and closing his eyes. "I was a fucking idiot for thinking we’d get away with this." His expression is steely. "Why would they let a lab exist if it threatens their profit margins?"

The whole lab is burnt down. Doyoung gets it. By all sound logic, everything inside has been destroyed. But there’s that pesky little feeling of hope, and Doyoung simply has to ask. "Jaehyun…"

Dr. Kim softens. "My basic droid’s boilerplate codebase is on the cloud. But his capsule had my only copy of his post-sentient memories, and I don’t own Dr. Jung’s DNA." The doctor bites his lower lip, feeling profoundly apologetic. "We can create another droid, but it won’t be Jaehyun anymore. I'm sorry."

"It's alright," Doyoung smiles despite the heartbreak because that's what he's seen the doctor do, so that must be right. "We've created those memories before. So we can create them again."

  
  


↭

  
  
  


Sunlight seeps through like darkened honey, casting long stretches of shadows within the cramped apartment. Plants cover every surface and only leave a thin trail on the floor to walk on. Stooped over his desk, Dr. Kim rubs his eyes every few minutes between squinting at the screen. His eyes are reddened from hours of pouring over his remote backup servers, salvaging as much data as possible before they reach the wrong hands. 

Doyoung sits in the charging station in the corner. Every few minutes, he hears a hopeless sigh escape the doctor. The servers that held the majority of the lab’s data were several floors below the subway station. From what the doctor could gather, they had become partially damaged by the force of the explosion.

A knock makes the both of them tense up. Dr. Kim warily walks to the door, his steps deliberate not to cause any creaks in the centuries-old building foundation. Picking up a nearby lamp base and clutching it tightly, he looks through the peephole. He stumbles back when he sees the guest, and a look of absolute fear washes his face. Doyoung stands, ready to defend. Dr. Kim motions for him to stay silent, shaking his head and putting up an indifferent look before opening the door.

“I came as soon as I found out—”

“The fucking nerve of you to show up.”

Shocked, Dr. Jung’s eyes shift from the doctor to the droid, looking for an explanation. Doyoung is just as confused about Dr. Kim’s reaction, but doesn’t show it. Dr. Jung speaks slowly, hesitant. “You don’t think I was the cause of all this?”

When Dr. Kim laughs, it’s filled with malice. “I guess that was my problem, wasn’t it? That I didn’t think. I didn’t think before trusting you again.”

Dr. Jung speaks quietly. “You know I wouldn’t hurt you.”

“I actually _don't_ know that. What's to say all these past months was nothing but a charade for you to get back at me?” 

“But it wasn't-”

“I mean,” Dr. Kim says louder, continuing to laugh, “objectively speaking, I shouldn't blame you anyway. Not when I have no evidence. You’re such a conniving little fox, Dr. Jung.”

Now it’s Dr. Jung’s turn to be angry. “But why would I do such a thing?”

“Dunno,” Dr. Kim shrugs, looking at his nails. “You got nervous? But shit, we were _this_ close to making a difference before you ratted me out to your Crème buddies.”

“You don’t believe that,” Dr. Jung’s voice wavers. "You know where my loyalties lie."

"I _said_ I don’t fucking know you."

"Then why did you reach out to me? You can't convince me that these past few months didn't mean anything to you.”

“Dr. Jung, you’re pathetic. I just used you. Again.” Dr. Kim muses. “You’re the worst fucking tool. How does someone fall for the same goddamn trick twice?” 

"I know why you're doing this." Dr. Jung shakes his head with an aching smile. "But I can protect myself. And if anything happens to me, it's on _me_."

"Ha," Dr. Kim says flatly. “You really think I ever gave a shit about you?”

“Let me in,” Dr. Jung's voice is barely audible. “Let me help.”

“I don't want your handouts.”

“Look, our project meant as much to me as it did to you, and—”

“You've gotta be fucking kidding me.” 

"I'm sorry?”

“You never gave a damn about my project.”

“Oh, so you'll decide that, too?”

“I'm so _sick_ of you."

Dr. Jung reels back, as if some physical force pulls him away from the other doctor. He's silent for some time. "I wanted to give you this.” The doctor eventually fishes out something from his pocket. Doyoung cranes his neck to see a round, thin disk the size of a hockey puck. “It isn't much, but it's my own copy of Jaehyun.” 

“You think I'd fall for this crap ? Cute little gimmick to track the location to my next lab, isn't it?"

But the droid immediately has his arms outstretched, with both hands cupped. Dr. Jung gives him the disk, and Doyoung cradles it carefully in his palms. He asks Dr. Jung, ignoring his own doctor, “Does it have his memories?”

“Not all of them," Dr. Jung toes the floor. "Only those critical to his functioning, decided by his own prioritization.”

Doyoung tears his gaze from the disk as he waits, casting a silent request towards Dr. Kim.

Dr. Kim looks at his droid long and hard. He sighs and the tiredness is heavy in his exhale.

Dr. Jung starts, "Dongyoung, if there's anything I can do-"

"Leave. And don't come back."

And so he does.

Without a word, Doyoung traces back all security cams and snapshots leading from Dr. Jung's lab down to this apartment, quickly deleting the Crème doctor's entire travel route. He does the same for the doctor's return trip, replacing his sightings with perfectly edited evidence of the path. Dr. Jung's speed back is slower. He stalls, first in front of a shut apartment door, and again as he steps onto the street of the Dredges. He hesitates before starting up his jet engine. Finally, he's on his way, flying up and over to his own residence.

Still standing by the door, Dr. Kim smiles at Doyoung despite holding the weight of a hundred worlds. "Thanks. That asshole doesn’t know what’s best for him." He forces out a laugh. A moment of silence. He looks up at the ceiling, trying to keep the tears at bay. "He’s safer if he stays up there, right?" His tone hopes for validation, praying for it.

Doyoung lightly pats the doctor's shoulder. "Right." 

Dr. Kim nods, and then he sits down heavily on his bed. The barely there veil finally breaks down as the first wave of tears pour down his cheeks, and his shoulders give in. He crumples down onto the floor, pulling down his bedsheets with him. Choked sobs shake his body, and he burrows his head into the sheets as he attempts to control himself.

Doyoung has been clutching Jaehyun’s memory disk tightly in his hand. He uses this time to privately open his chest cavity, and safely place the disk right next to the polaroid photo that the two droids had taken only days earlier.

When Dr. Kim eventually looks up, he is calm. His face is speckled with red splotches and his eyes are puffy and tired. There's a renewed sense of clarity and direction. 

"We gotta get started with the new lab,” he tells Doyoung. “We’re like, a few weeks out, I think, before the first hospitals start running out of our resources. We better stay away from Telos for a bit, though. Just to lay low." He pauses, thinking. "But there are other megacorps, of course." The doctor stands on his feet, and gives Doyoung a look of determination. "Let’s start the replenishment missions immediately."

Dr. Kim gets back to work, holding tightly onto the new purpose, a life vest keeping him afloat so he doesn’t sink even further. 

Doyoung rethinks the concept of love. Maybe home doesn't fully encompass the spectrum. You don't willingly leave your home. You don't tell your home not to come back. There's a sense of profound empathy that comes with love, Doyoung decides. That your joy and your sorrow is affected by your other's joys and sorrows. That there's this urge to make sure your other is living their best life, even if that means breaking their heart. Even if that means breaking your own. 

Seated back in his charging station, Doyoung closes his eyes. In his mind, he accesses his memories of Jaehyun. The scenes play out like an old movie, and he loops through them, over and over and over.

He clings onto his past with all his energy.

Because that pain you feel, thorns and all, is a token of the other that you get to keep all to yourself and nurture within the furthest corners of your room. It's a piece of home that stays, even if the other cannot. The pain reminds you that, regardless of where you came from or what you're made of, you're still alive.

  
  


↭

  
  
  


"I have exactly eight minutes before the window opens for my next mission."

"Damn, Doyoung." Yuta makes a face. "It's great to see you again, too."

Doyoung steps into the living room - or at least what he makes out of it from the sparse furniture and boxes of cardboard stacked up as a wall in the far end, forming a partition to the rest of the Kaffe house.

"Hello, Doyoung." Mark struggles to stand up from the poufy, shapeless blob on the floor that tries its best to be a sitting piece as he says, with earnest, "I, too, find it great to see you again."

"You don't have to get up, Mark." Doyoung drags another blob next to the one Taeyong sits on. "How is this place treating you?"

"It's wonderful. Haechan is very gracious. He provides much more freedom than my past human employers."

"Low bar to beat," Yuta mutters to himself as he plops down with the other three. "And for the last time, Haechan isn't your employer. He's your _host_."

Mark ducks his head low. "Apologies. But I am not comfortable with receiving aid without cause."

Yuta casts a glance at the other two droids. "This kid's been begging for work. But Haechan's been nice with him, which is a shock, honestly."

"Good," Doyoung says, relieved. He looks around. "Where is Haechan?"

"Fooling around with his little posse, burning down the city, as they do."

"He hasn't told the Watchlist about Mark, has he?"

"Nah. If there's one thing the brat likes more than arson, it's to piss off the authorities."

"I'd prefer you not call him a brat." Mark says, earning a surprised look from Yuta. "He's a stranger, but he's still providing me security. I only wish to repay him."

Taeyong reaches over to pat Mark's back. "You deserve to be here, Mark. Think of this as a payment, not for what you do, but for who you are."

Mark stares, unblinking. "Your words are often confusing, Taeyong."

“Dude, you _need_ to spend more time talking to humans,” Yuta says to Taeyong, shaking his head before turning to Mark. "What Taeyong means is, fuck the corporations and collect those reparations, my man."

Taeyong scoffs, while Mark nods thoughtfully, his gears slowly churning away at the idea.

"So," Taeyong nods at Doyoung. "A mission, huh? Is the doctor already putting together a stockpile for the new lab?"

Doyoung nods. "How long will your existing supplies last?"

"The first of the supplies will need replenishment in another 23 days."

"Don't worry." Doyoung says. "We'll procure and develop a batch before then."

"What about you?" Taeyong asks, in a quieter voice. 

"Don't worry about that, either," Doyoung repeats. "I'm unhurt."

"Lies," Yuta stares. "Why, just because you didn't get a physical scratch? Haven't I told you? Droid aches go beyond our shells."

"I know," Doyoung manages a small smile. "Aches are aches, however seemingly impossible it is that we're able to feel."

"Whenever you’re feeling it, I want you to rant the fuck away in my private comms," Yuta says. 

“We’re always here to support you,” Taeyong supplies. “You know that, right?”

Doyoung laughs. "Of course. Isn’t that what family does?"

  
  
  


He's finished dropping off his newly stolen lab material at the designated storage location and decides to take the long way home when he sees it again. 

Worker bots are busy in the process of washing the entire mural away, but Doyoung can still make out the single, freshly graffitied addition that vandals had marked over the existing picture. He zooms in optically and notes the large, cartoonish letters making up a simple word painted in stark red:

BOOM.

  
  


↭

  
  
  
  


The next morning brings yet another unannounced visitor to the apartment. 

“They had my family,” Taeil’s words tumble out the moment Dr. Kim opens the door.

The doctor blinks, still groggy from a late night. 

Taeil looks like he’s slept even less, with heavy bags under his eyes and a looming darkness weighing his figure down. “They were somehow able to link me with the lab. And then I got a call, two days ago. They used my family so they could get inside.” He exhales shakily and brims with tears.

“Hey. Hey, it’s alright,” Dr. Kim murmurs, pulling Taeil into the apartment and looking around for evesdroppers before shutting the door behind them. “Your family. Are they safe now?”

Taeil nods. “They were brought back this morning.” He then looks down in shame, voice cracking. “I’m so sorry, Dr. Kim.” 

“Don’t apologize,” Dr. Kim says sternly. “How long have we worked together? Do you think I’d ask for an apology from you? I trust you, Taeil.” He sighs, shaking his head. “I just want to know how they found out you work for me.”

“The resupply chain,” Doyoung speaks up. Ever since Taeil had entered, the droid analyzed a complete stream of feeds, tracking all direct and indirect connections he had made recently. “Talos scraped Taeyong’s private feed during Taeil’s transaction when he restocked the cafe’s medical supplies.”

“Taeyong’s?” Dr. Kim asks, uncertain. “But how? His servers have advanced antivirus security. Nobody should’ve been able to hack into his feed.”

“Not unless they already had read-only access, which a droid’s owner can directly gain permissions to in certain cases.”

“Cases like if they were put on the _Watchlist_.” Dr. Kim loudly groans as it clicks. “God, it shouldn’t matter if he’s a human or a droid. Nobody should have access to another person’s fucking _brain_.”

Doyoung almost finds humor in this situation. All this time, they were trying to protect Mark, to keep him out of sight. But of course the company wouldn’t care enough about a lone rogue bot to have the chairman, himself, step in and monitor the situation. Mark wouldn’t affect their profit margins or their bottom line. They’ve always been known to go for the bigger kill, the one who does threaten their exclusive services they’ve come to monopolize over the years. And they certainly found that kill, through the sheer misfortune of Taeyong being who and what he is.

“I wish I could’ve convinced them to do a night raid.” Taeil glances down at Dr. Kim’s cast. “That way, nobody would’ve had to get hurt.” 

“Don’t beat yourself up, alright?” Dr. Kim looks off to his peripherals, where Doyoung stands. “I just wish we could’ve saved everyone.”

“I know.” Taeil droops his shoulders even further. “They were ecstatic about him before they even saw him. I should’ve known they’d want to copyright his design before you could—”

“Wait, back up,” Dr. Kim demands. “They knew about Jaehyun?”

“Well, just pieces, from the cafe droid’s feeds.” Taeil scratches his head. “His design was their main goal, to begin with. Destroying the lab was only a nice bonus for them.”

Doyoung thinks he understands, first-handedly, the feeling of _guilt_. If it weren’t for him talking about the lab or the doctors to Taeyong and the other droids, Talos might not have found out about Jaehyun’s existence. If it weren’t for Doyoung, Jaehyun would still be alive. 

“I’m confused.” Dr. Kim holds his head. “Why would they blow him up, then? Like, instead of just stealing our files to recreate our prototype, they could’ve just taken _him_.”

“I mean, yeah,” Taeil nods, equally as lost. “That’s what they did.”

_“What?!”_

Wide-eyed, Taeil says, “Dr. Kim, do you need to sit down? It can be difficult to stay in touch with reality after experiencing trauma—” 

“Oh, shut _up._ ” Dr. Kim grips Taeil by the shoulders and shakes him. “And tell me clearly. What the fuck did Talos actually do?” 

Taeil nervously looks between the doctor and his droid, who is now also staring at him equally as intensely. He takes a deep breath.

“They only kidnapped Jaehyun,” Doyoung speaks for Taeil, relief palpable in his voice as he finishes scanning the timeline. “And _then_ they blew up the lab. Jaehyun’s alive. He-” The droid pauses, and his face contorts as he grits his jaws. 

“What?” Dr. Kim spins towards him. “Doyoung, what is it?”

And then, with an instant, Doyoung has flown out the window, flying up and disappearing above, hardly registering the doctor’s shouts from below, or the alarm bells going off as he blindly zooms through the vertical city. 

Doyoung’s already put Jaehyun through enough. Jaehyun’s up there because of him. He’s not going to let anything happen to him again. Not while he’s still alive.

  
  


↭

  
  
  


The operating room is lit up in artificial blue white. It’s cold. Maybe too cold, Doyoung thinks, for it to hold a warm body.

But there’s Jaehyun, lying down with his eyes tightly closed on the central table. Around his limbs and torso are rigid metal constraints holding him in place. It’s a bit of an overkill for the organic bot, especially one with strong sedatives running through his system and slowing him down to that of a simple human child. Doyoung doesn’t need to read Jaehyun’s chemical impulses to understand his mental state. It appears in the way Jaehyun’s neck is held stiff, the way the muscles on his forearm stay perpetually flexed. He notices the vague movements of his brows, a sporadic creasing of his forehead, and how his hands are fists at his side. 

It’s _fear_ , and it’s _worry_ , and those emotions only expand tenfold within Doyoung.

He cautiously approaches the table with gentle steps. Jaehyun doesn’t notice, not with the thoughts running through his mind and clouding his sensors. Doyoung searches for new network connections within Jaehyun that the Talos researchers set up, and promptly destroys them. It’s a rash move, one that trips the security alarms. The clock starts ticking, but Doyoung doesn’t pay heed to it. He’s too absorbed into his emotions, and his singular focus only further heats up his circuits and slows down his analytical thinking. 

“Jaehyun,” Doyoung whispers. He dares to move closer, and sees Jaehyun flinch and shrink in on himself. His shoulders clench, and his face turns away from Doyoung’s voice, as if waiting for a blow. It breaks Doyoung. He takes a step back as his insides burn something ugly and sickening. Pretending to be strong is so terribly tiring, Doyoung realizes. Still, he tries again, ever more tender. “I’m here for you.”

Jaehyun slightly turns his head back around and furtively opens his eyes. They only widen when he notices Doyoung’s figure. His mouth opens and closes, as if he’s looking for his voice. He manages to croak out, "Who are you?"

Doyoung all but disintegrates. “Don’t joke around,” he forces a smile. It’s a human habit he’s picked up along the way, to reflexively counter a truth with denial. But Doyoung knows better. Jaehyun really doesn’t know who he is, clear from both the shackled bot’s body language and his brain activity. It’s as if his memory has been wiped clean. As if he’s been rebooted, and his original, optimistic reactions to anything new have turned into pure dread. It’s as if it’s Jaehyun versus the world, and Doyoung is simply another opponent to him.

"Here." Doyoung stretches out a shaking arm, afraid to step closer, so afraid. "Let me take you home."

"Go away," Jaehyun whispers.

Doyoung's arm drops to his side. “I’m sorry,” is all Doyoung could say with his remaining energy, dropping to his knees on the floor. His external comms have shut down shortly after he had come inside, and now even his optics turn blurry, restricting his sight as his system slowly turns off all processors but those vital to his existence. His auditory feed only barely catches Talos’s guards barging into the room and dragging him away before it shuts off, too. 

The pain gnaws at his insides long after his shell severs ties with the outside world.

  
  


↭

  
  
  


“Ah, good. You’re both here,” Jungwoo furtively looks down both sides of the empty hallway before turning back to the two doctors at a face-off.

“What is _he_ doing here?” Dr. Kim has his lower face covered up by his sleeves, but his sentiment is delivered through the accusatory tone of his voice.

“I work here, if you didn’t remember.” Dr. Jung shows his wristlet, brandishing the Talos security chip. “And, Jungwoo tipped me off.”

Dr. Kim spins around towards the cybernetician, betrayed. “How _could_ you—”

“About Jaehyun, then,” Jungwoo quickly begins while throwing a glare at Dr. Jung. He continues before Dr. Kim can proceed. “I don’t have the clearance to take you further than this, Dr. Kim. But rumor has it that he’s being kept in the restricted labs, down that hall and through those doors.” He points.

“And Doyoung?” Dr. Kim asks, eyes wide.

“I don’t know.” Jungwoo is apologetic. “But we did have a security breach in this wing about 30 minutes ago.”

“He tripped the alarms?” Dr. Kim’s voice is strained. “God, he must be drained.”

Jungwoo nods. “But I wasn’t able to track any droids coming out of here since then. He has to be inside here, too.”

Dr. Kim sighs heavily. “Thanks for bringing me up, Jungwoo,” He then adds with a grumble, “Even though the company is less than ideal.”

“It’s the least I could do.” A message directs Jungwoo’s attention to his wristlet. “I’ve got to go now, or someone’s gonna see my absence in the lab. Please stay safe.” He nods at the two doctors, and leaves.

Dr. Kim briefly glances at Dr. Jung as he faces the end of the hall. “Shouldn’t you be hiding?”

“Why?” Dr. Jung asks.

“Are you serious?” Dr. Kim balks, irritated. “What with Jaehyun being your lookalike, I’d imagine there’d be a warrant out for you. I mean, we did modify the DNA, but your faces… God, you’re fucking _dumb_ for prancing about out in the open right now, Dr. Jung.” There’s worry masked in the doctor’s annoyance, and it’s one that Dr. Jung can easily pick out.

Dr. Jung shrugs nonchalantly, which only annoys Dr. Kim even further. “They’ve kept me entirely out of the loop so far. Maybe they just think Jaehyun’s creator has a thing for me.” 

“As if.” But the stress lines on Dr. Kim’s forehead don’t lessen. Dr. Jung’s words register fully, and Dr. Kim whips around. “Ah-ha! You called him mine. No take-backs.”

“I said you’re a creator, not his owner,” Dr. Jung grins, pleased that he’s at least temporarily distracted Dr. Kim enough to play around. But his eyes move to Dr. Kim’s empty wrist and he sighs. “You should be more careful about keeping yourself invisible up here, though. You’re not even wearing an ID.”

“I don’t need your concern, thank you very much.” 

Just then, a lab technician rounds the corner into their sight. Dr. Kim immediately turns to hide his face, and Dr. Jung stiffens. The technician is in a hurry, and hardly glances at the other two as he brushes by them. He swipes his wristlet on the door’s access control system, and air hisses from the pneumatic door as it opens and shuts. Just like that, the two doctors are alone in the hallway again.

Dr. Kim’s gaze trails down to Dr. Jung’s wristlet, and then to the shut door. “Can you get to where he is, then?” He asks before he bites his lip. He backtracks quickly. “You know what, forget it. Stay away from this. I can handle it on my own.”

“Really.” Dr. Jung pushes up his glasses before folding his arms across his chest. “What are you going to do on your own?”

“I’m thinking.” Dr. Kim purposefully stares at the closed door ahead.

A pause. “You don’t have a plan?”

“No, I don’t, okay?” Dr. Kim rounds up on him. “Look, first, my bot - who I thought was dead, by the way — actually got _kidnapped_ —”

“That’s _my_ bot.”

“—And then, my other bot goes berserk and flies up here and what, I’m supposed to first sit down and patiently think up a nice little _plan_? No, I got my ass up here as soon as I could.”

Dr. Jung steadily stares at Dr. Kim, and then he unfolds his arms. “Fine. While you think up a plan, I’ll look for Jaehyun.” He starts briskly walking down the hallway.

“Wait, _wait_ , damn it.” Dr. Kim hurriedly follows him in tow. 

Dr. Jung slows down only when he reaches the secure door. “Stay close,” he murmurs, swiping his wristlet across the sensors. They step into another hallway that doesn’t look all too different from the one they were just in. Shut doors line the walls on either side, with special access sensors next to each one. Dr. Jung turns his head and adds, “I know this place best, so don’t do anything rash.”

“Yeah, sure,” Dr. Kim stretches his words.

“I mean it, Dongyoung,” Dr. Jung stills his steps and Dr. Kim bumps into him. “You cannot get in trouble because of me, understand?”

“I said _yeah_ ,” Dr. Kim scowls. A faint sound of a crash is heard a few halls over, and he instinctively reaches out to grip the other doctor’s arm. Dr. Jung raises a brow, and Dr. Kim lets go immediately, opting to use conversation as distraction. “So what do we do now? Open each door and hope we’re not immediately arrested?”

Dr. Jung slowly walks down the hall, pausing by each sensor to read the room’s schedule. “If they wanted to arrest me, they’d have already sent security this way the moment I scanned into this hall.”

“Crap.” Dr. Kim groans. “I told you to stay out of this. Now I’m gonna be bringing you down with me.” 

Dr. Jung frowns, pausing on reading the sensors to look back. “This was _my_ decision. You need to stop taking on all the blame for yourself.” 

“This is madness.” Dr. Kim continues as if he didn’t hear, glancing behind them with every tiny noise. “Maybe if we locate security control, I can try remotely hacking in and bring down the feeds.” He pauses to wail quietly. “What am I saying, Talos uses failsafe enterprise management platforms. Their shit is unbreakable. By humans, anyway.” 

“So there _is_ something the great Dr. Kim can’t do,” Dr. Jung throws back without malice as they continue walking down the hall.

“Shut up.” The doctor releases another groan. “What the hell are we doing, anyway? A couple of lame nerds who think we can just waltz in and confront a corporate-level kidnapping?”

“Speak for yourself.” Dr. Jung has stopped at one particular closed door and is scrolling through its sensor display. “ _I’m_ not lame.”

“Says the one who wears glasses like he’s still living in 2050.”

Dr. Jung makes a face. “It’s vintage.”

The words hardly leave his mouth when the hissing of the pneumatic door in front of him grabs his attention. He sucks in his breath and side steps, pulling Dr. Kim with him. A lab technician exits the room, and Dr. Jung knows the visiting doctor would be caught with a single glance. He spins Dr. Kim around until he’s flush against the wall to the side of the door with Dr. Jung facing him, with a tight grip on Dr. Kim’s wrist where the Talos wristlet should have been. 

“What—” Dr. Kim’s voice dies in his throat as Dr. Jung leans in, until his face is mere inches away from his own.

“Follow my lead, alright?” Dr. Jung whispers, and Dr. Kim gives an imperceptible nod, with incredibly wide and trusting eyes as he follows his every move. That triggers something warm in Dr. Jung’s stomach but he pushes the feeling away, concentrating on the matter at hand. He brings up his other hand to gently cup the side of Dr. Kim’s face, hiding him entirely from passerby. Dr. Jung tilts his head to the side in an attempt to make the act look genuine. His lips only ghost over Dr. Kim’s, deliberately not making contact, hesitant. He swallows. 

The technician has noted their presence and pauses in his footsteps directly behind Dr. Jung. “What the hell? Dr. Jung?”

Dr. Kim huffs out a breath, fogging up Dr. Jung’s glasses. “Well, don’t _half-ass_ it,” he whispers and with his free arm, he drapes it around Dr. Jung’s neck and pulls him in close until their lips meet. Dr. Jung goes completely still. The technician presses for their identification, clearly unsure of the situation. Frustrated at the lack of their believability, Dr. Kim bites down on Dr. Jung’s lower lip.

This spurs Dr. Jung into action. He steps forward until their feet straddle each other’s, and curves his body inwards. His hand that was on Dr. Kim cheek drops down to his neck, fingers caressing the sensitive skin as he parts his lips. His eyes flutter to a close as he dives into the act completely.

Meanwhile, a second technician has joined the first. He blankly looks at the scene before turning to his partner. “Ignore them, Winwin.” They eventually walk away, muttering something about PDA, down the hall and round the corner. 

The absence of the audience isn’t immediately apparent to the doctors, though. Dr. Kim’s breath hitches when he feels Dr. Jung’s tongue lightly skim over his lips. He pulls the doctor closer and gently raises his leg in between Dr. Jung’s own. Dr. Jung moans into his mouth and his grip on the doctor’s wrist tightens, pooling even more warmth in Dr. Kim’s core. 

It’s Dr. Jung who backs away first. Frustration blatantly traverses Dr. Kim’s face and before he could get a hold of his emotions, he shakes off Dr. Jung’s grip on his wrist and yanks him back in by the collar, chasing the receding lips and making Dr. Jung grin wide in surprise. 

The smile is instantly wiped off his face, because now Dr. Kim is trailing open kisses from his mouth, to his jawline, and then down to his neck, where he gently licks a certain section of particularly sensitive skin before sucking down on it.

Dr. Jung has dropped any relevance of composure. He makes a deep, guttural noise and tilts his head to the side. This only further incites Dr. Kim to deepen his kiss. They’re both breathing heavily at this point. Dr. Jung brings both his hands around and slips them under the back of the doctor’s shirt. His fingers are met with heat as they trace familiar territory, the curved dip of Dr. Kim’s small waist that broadens further up. Dr. Jung’s hot all over, from his ears all the way down, he’s burning and it’s added on by the heat radiating from the other body. He gasps as Dr. Kim bites down hard on his neck, panting for air.

The sound of an alarm coupled with flashing red lights throughout the hallway breaks their trance. 

Dr. Jung stumbles backwards, his legs still wobbly as he tries to clear his head. Alerts beep on his wristlet, one after another, and reads a slew of massive droid warehouses in the storage floors below have been unlocked and remotely activated. Around them, the secure doors have all opened automatically. Workers in the empty rooms cautiously step outside, confused. Others who were working on live droids scramble away. Their chrome subjects that were previously shackled in place have sprung open, and the confused droids fill the hallway. 

Shouts are heard from around the corner, and the two doctors soon see a flock of people running by and skit between the droids, whooping and hollering with laughter. They’re young, and from the looks of their dark outfits and masks, clearly aren’t sanctioned Talos employees. 

Someone with wild, shocking red hair runs up last behind the others, and Dr. Jung grabs hold of his arm.

“What’s going on? Who are you?” Dr. Jung has to yell over the alarm to be heard.

The stranger is shorter than the doctor and has to look up. He scans Dr. Jung for a quick second before his eyes fall on Dr. Jung’s Talos id. A grin grows on his face. “It’s the start of a revolution.” Before the doctor can react, he’s been roundhouse kicked square in the diaphragm. Dr. Jung clutches his stomach gasping for air while the stranger leans into his ear. “And I’m your worst nightmare.” A gleam from the emergency lights is captured in the stranger’s eyes, transforming the natural brown to match the glowing red. He smirks before turning on his heel and runs to catch up with his mates. 

“Doyoung!” Dr. Kim shouts from inside the room closest to them, and Dr. Jung immediately reverts his attention. Still partially bent over in pain, the doctor meets up with the other inside the room. 

“Why isn’t he moving?” Dr. Kim’s voice is near a breaking point. The shackles confining Doyoung within one of the holding cells have been released with the others. But the droid stays standing, leaning back against the cell wall as his eyes remain unfocused and distant. Dr. Kim places a hand over Doyoung’s chest, and it’s only with the generated heat from his inner components that the doctor knows he’s still alive. 

“You stay with him,” Dr. Jung yells. “Jaehyun might be in one of these rooms. I’ll update you through the comms.”

No sooner that the doctor runs out of the room does Doyoung finally snap out of it. His pupils dilate and he shifts his head where Dr. Jung had been. “Jaehyun?”

“Doyoung!” Dr. Kim releases a choked sob as he pulls him close and gives him a tight hug.

Still weak, Doyoung has to try hard to push the doctor away. Dr. Kim notices, and steps back immediately, but still holds onto Doyoung by the shoulders to keep him steady. The droid’s system slowly wakes up, coming to clarity. “Jaehyun,” he repeats with an urgency, as if that’s the only word he knows.

“Have you seen him?” Dr. Kim asks. “Where is he?”

Doyoung briefly nods, eyeing the door.

Dr. Kim tilts his head, opening a private comm with the other doctor to alert him. “Dr. Jung? Doyoung knows Jaehyun’s at. He might be able to take us there.” He hears static in response, but no sound of a voice. “Dr. Jung!” Dr. Kim screams. “Fuck. If you die on me, I swear to god, I’ll _kill_ you.”

The static in his ear continues, and Dr. Kim becomes all the more worn out. And then the doctor’s head emerges back in the doorway, looking concerned. “Dr. Kim?”

“You _asshole_.” Dr. Kim responds in between shaky breaths as he puts a hand over the violent thudding in his chest. “Why the hell are your comms shut off?”

Dr. Jung touches his temple. “I think everyone’s is. Someone must’ve set up a wide-reaching jammer.”

“Whatever,” Dr. Kim shakes his head, pretending his heart isn’t about to leap out of his throat. “Doyoung, can you take us to where Jaehyun is held?”

To which Doyoung walks ahead in response, a certainty in his steps. The two doctors quickly follow him out the room.

  
  


↭

  
  
  


“Pleased you could join us, gentlemen. And bot,” Mr. Suh adds. “Let’s keep this short, shall we?”

They’ve stepped into the lab and are immediately met with an array of weapons pointing at them from all directions. In the middle stands Talos’ chairman, with an oddly calm face despite the ongoing security breach. Beyond him, a couple of scientists are busy at work between an array of machinery connected to an operating table lit up in blue-white. Its occupier is out of sight to the visitors, but it’s not difficult to guess who it is.

“Let him go.” Doyoung grits. He’s still frail, incapable beyond a few words. The sound of the alarm has stopped, allowing his quiet words to travel across the room.

“Or we can take our time,” Mr. Suh shrugs, turning his back against them as he slowly circles the sleeping Jaehyun. He’s mesmerized by the sight of the droid, and a tongue darts out to lick his lips. “I always enjoy an audience,” he murmurs.

“Don’t fucking touch him,” Dr. Kim warns. He steps forward as he says so, and some of the weapons are activated, evidenced by dots across the doctor’s body.

“Not interested in _that_ ,” Mr. Suh laughs, casually waving his arm to have security stand down. “You know, I do have to thank you two for being so punctual with this gift. It couldn’t have come at a better time.” He fiddles with one of the machinery and nods at a scientist, who shows him an electronic tablet. He reads the display and shortly nods before grinning up at the doctors. “In a few moments, I’ll be the owner to the most priceless blueprint in the world.”

“He’s not yours.” Dr. Jung clenches his fist.

“Ah, Dr. Jung.” Mr. Suh clasps his hands behind his back with a pleasant smile. “Now why is it that you’ve never shown this much interest when working up here? Is this the value of the so-called employee morale?” He takes in Dr. Kim’s body from head to toe before adding, “If you needed such an incentive, you could’ve told me. I’d have certainly arranged something for you up here.”

Both doctors step forward in anger and the weapons are raised again. This time, Mr. Suh doesn’t bother to call off the targets and only cocks his head, humored at the sight. The doctors, too, freeze. “That’s _adorable_.” The visitors only hold Mr. Suh’s attention for a second, before he snaps at the lab workers. “What’s taking so long?”

“Sir, we’re unable to override the droid’s original signature with our own.”

“What?” Mr. Suh wheels at the scientist who spoke, pointing an accusatory finger. “You said the bioscan confirmed we were ready for copyright registration.” 

The scientist swallows hard. “Apologies, sir, but there was a glitch in the analysis.”

Mr. Suh narrows his eyes. “Our program doesn’t make errors.”

Another worker clears his throat. “The droid’s ID is organically based. It’s on a cellular level, akin to its DNA. Modifying at that level using gene manipulation potentially could be catastrophic.”

“For who, the bot?” Mr. Suh asks, incredulous. He slowly turns, glancing between the people around him. “Are we suddenly going to treat these _things_ as if they’re humans?” 

“But isn’t he? Human, I mean?” The worker stares at the sleeping figure in front of him.

“Oh, Winwin.” Mr. Suh laughs, honeyed and patronizing. “Whatever they’re made of, even if they’re biologically built to grow and decay alongside us, they’ll never be human. Not as long as we’re their gods, designing their every aspect and giving them purpose only to fulfill our own.”

“You’re wrong,” Dr. Kim declares.

“Am I?” Mr. Suh entertains him.

"We're their gods just as much as your parents are yours. They live and learn and grow outside of your domain. Of course they're not human, but is that so bad?"

"Well, yes." Mr. Suh says, incredulous. "And, Talos designs ensure they _don't_ learn, so your argument is quite flawed."

"Right." Dr. Kim scoffs. "Is it my argument that's flawed, or is it your unfair contracts that don’t even give droids the power to refute those contracts?”

“Unfair contracts.” Mr. Suh juts out his lower lip. “Huh. I don’t know where you got the idea from. But we here at Talos do conform our droid design to industry standards.”

“Right,” Dr. Kim drawls, crossing his arms across his chest. “Standards that are inherently built on unequal footing between the human and the droid.”

Mr. Suh sighs in exasperation. “Look, I don’t want to get political, alright? That’s beyond my job description.”

“You got political the moment you entered the scientific industry. What we do doesn’t happen in a vacuum. The line between technology and society is so faint it’s invisible. So of course it’s political. It’s _damn_ political.”

“Oh my god,” Mr. Suh holds his head. “You talk _so_ much.” He motions for one of the security guards. “Can you just, I don’t know, turn that off?”

“Wait.” Dr. Jung steps in front of Dr. Kim. “Let him go. Take me, instead.”

“Aww,” Mr. Suh wipes an invisible tear. “Self-sacrifice in the name of true love. Never fails to get me.”

“Uh, no, I mean.” Dr. Jung warily looks down at the dotted targets speckling his chest. “Let me work for you. I’ll create another prototype, this time with your signature.”

“The _fuck_ —” Dr. Kim hisses over his shoulder.

Dr. Jung ignores him. “In return, let Dr. Kim and Jaehyun go.”

“In return?” Mr. Suh makes a face. “Are you sure you’re in any position to be negotiating right now?”

“It’s not your intellectual property. What about business ethics?”

“Oh dear,” Mr. Suh laughs. “Such big terms. You see, Dr. Jung, ethics is a very subjective idea. And nearly always a waste of time. And have you looked around recently?” He nods at the flashing red out in the hallway. “You know what comes with a data security breach. Tanked revenue costs, damaged goods, a ruined reputation. Why would I twiddle my thumbs for another few months when I can save my company right now?”

“Because it’s morally wrong.”

“I used to have a soft spot for you.” Mr. Suh tuts. “It’s a real pity it’s come to this.”

“Wait, please listen—”

A clear voice speaks from the doorway. “Don’t waste your breath. It’s like talking to an obscenely tall wall.”

The voice is strangely familiar to Dr. Jung, and it’s hardly begun speaking when several other people run into the lab, taking everyone inside by surprise. Dr. Jung counts six or seven of them, expertly maneuvering over and round the machinery, disarming the trained guards within seconds and pinning a few to the ground. The chairman is slow to move until two of the rebels zero in on Jaehyun, who is now awake and looks more terrified than he has ever been.

“Call for backup!” Mr. Suh barks at the unarmed guards near the doorway. He then rounds himself on the droid’s rescue attempt. “Back. Off,” he growls, and with each word, he uses one arm to pick up each of the rebels and heave them towards opposite walls, where they come crashing down and taking shelves with them. They’re just as quick to get back up, though, and lunge again for Jaehyun.

Meanwhile, the doctors have crouched into a corner close to the entrance, away from the crossfire and form a protective barricade between the chaos and Doyoung. Crushed beaker glasses and their spilled contents dangerously seep under the electrical machinery near them. 

A flash of red appears before Dr. Jung, and he instinctively protects his stomach.

“Are you dumb?” The red hair shouts at the doctors above the noise. He holds out an arm, waiting. The two doctors nervously share glances, while Doyoung’s hand promptly reaches out to grasp it. He hoists up the droid and looks down at the doctors again. “Get out of here!”

“Not without him,” Doyoung points at the ongoing fight above a frozen Jaehyun.

The red hair’s voice is gentler, but still firm. “Wait for us outside, down the hall to the right. We’ll bring him there.” He’s soon preoccupied as a guard attacks him from behind. He easily overtakes him, and a wail of anguish is heard from the other as his arm bends an impossible angle behind his back. The red hair lets go of the guard and then turns back around. He frowns when he sees the doctors still on the floor, looking up in shock. “What?” He snaps. “Do you need to be told another way?”

Dr. Kim squints suspiciously up at him. “Who are you—”

“Don’t,” Dr. Jung warns, standing up and helping him to his feet. 

“But how do we know—”

“Let them do their thing.” Dr. Jung nods at the smug red hair. “We’re leaving now.”

The three wait at the end of the empty hall for only a few minutes, but to Doyoung it feels like hours. Dr. Kim paces down the hallway perpendicular to the one with the lab, throwing concerned looks in its direction with every crash and shout. There’s the sound of a small explosion, and Dr. Jung tightens his clenched fist. 

And then, two of the rebels leave the lab and quickly approach them. Jaehyun is in between them, his arms hooked on each side to the others, his feet on autopilot as his eyes dart around. The droid is scared of everything and everyone, but has enough of a mind to follow the guide of the rebels away from the commotion behind them. His feet only start dragging when they reach closer to Doyoung and the two doctors, guarded again. 

“Okay, take him home quickly,” the rebel on the right says as he gently coaxes Jaehyun forward. 

“Jaehyun,” Doyoung sighs in relief, stepping forward.

“I got him.” Dr. Jung is there to take the transfer, extending his hand out to a confused Jaehyun, who stares wide-eyed at the doctor. “My house is nearby.”

“Definitely not,” Dr. Kim interjects, pushing the other doctor aside. “He’s coming with _me_.”

“Oh, for heaven's sake,” the rebel on the left scowls. “Just leave!”

Behind them, the noise spills out from the lab as the fighters tumble out.

Mr. Suh screams, finally spotting Jaehyun down the hall. “Don’t run away from me! I worked too hard for this!” He wildly spins until he finds what he’s looking for. “Gimme that!” He grabs a shooter from a nearby guard. When he turns around, his eyes are raging as he points and blindly shoots as the doctors and the droids scramble down the hallway. One of the rebels notices, and tries a moment too late to kick the weapon from his grasp and eventually tackle him down.

Doyoung can't lose Jaehyun again.

The bullet seems to travel in slow motion. He grabs Jaehyun by the shoulders and spins him around, so that Doyoung is the one in the path of its trajectory. When it punctures his back, Doyoung hardly registers it, too caught up in the expressive features of the other droid in front of him, still awfully afraid. Doyoung blinks, irritated at the error messages across his pupils that just won’t go away, covering up his view of Jaehyun. 

And then he feels the pain, like a searing needle wove through his upper shoulder blade and out his front chest. It blooms across his entire body, spreading with it the heat and electrical shock of over-processed circuit boards. He cries out in anguish. He still tightly holds onto Jaehyun, keeping him out of reach from any more stray bullets. Doyoung external sensors shut down soon after, once they analyze the extent of physical damage. 

This time, the last thing he sees in Jaehyun isn’t fear, but a tiny, tiny semblance of sadness.

  
  



	5. Chapter 5

When Doyoung’s optics reloads, he’s staring up at a certain cafe kitchen ceiling. The error messages across his vision are fewer than before and blink in orange, but they’re slowly subsiding. On either side of him are two people working on his shell with focus. 

“CPU’s back in function.” Jungwoo reads the latest logs from a digital monitoring machine. “He’s no longer critical.” 

On his other side, Taeyong pushes aside the surgical arm and switches off the overhead light. Doyoung feels a familiar presence sifting through his mind. Taeyong soon adds, “I’ve replaced his emergency backup power. And his neural activity shows that his core systems are already repairing themselves.” 

Farther down the kitchen, someone exhales a breath he’s been holding. Footsteps come closer, and Doyoung feels the punch on the arm before he sees the person. He looks up at a very angry face in surprise, and is unable to hide his disappointment at their identity.

Dr. Kim throws his arms around him, pulling him into a sitting position for a hug.

“You goddamn _idiot_ ,” Dr. Kim mumbles into Doyoung’s bodysuit. “Don’t you dare pull that shit again.”

Over the doctor’s shoulder, Doyoung sees a fidgety Jaehyun hiding behind Dr. Jung. The biodroid is still clearly apprehensive of his surroundings, but Doyoung wonders if it’s because of their visual similarity that Jaehyun finds Dr. Jung harmless. Doyoung’s thankful that, even if it's not him, there’s someone Jaehyun can trust.

Jaehyun’s hands grip fistfuls of Dr. Jung’s shirt at his sides. His curiosity soon gets the better of him and he peeks his head out. When he makes direct eye-contact with Doyoung, Jaehyun’s eyes widen before he scrambles back behind Dr. Jung.

"Not an idiot." Doyoung smiles at where Jaehyun’s shocked face was just before. “And I’m not promising anything.”

Of course he’d do it again. He doesn’t doubt it for a microsecond. Even if Jaehyun were made of metal and not delicate biomatter, even if Jaehyun had a higher chance of survival than Doyoung. Even if Doyoung wasn’t supposed to have these feelings, because he wasn’t built for them. Even if he couldn’t ever imitate the life and the light from the doctors’ photo, and even if he forever remains blind to manifesting his own feelings in any positive way beyond his guilt and despair and longing. 

But Dr. Kim doesn’t need to know that.

“We need to decide what to do with him now,” Dr. Jung says, as he side-steps to show Jaehyun. Jaehyun promptly follows Dr. Jung to hide himself again.

“ _We?_ ” Dr. Kim drags the word, letting go of Doyoung. “That’s rich. I shouldn’t have even allowed you to come down here with us.”

Dr. Jung imitates Dr. Kim’s snort in exaggeration. “Need I remind you that Jaehyun’s my droid?”

“Need I remind _you_ ,” Dr. Kim approaches Dr. Jung with a wagging finger. “That you were about to throw away all our work up there? The fuck was that about, `I’ll make another bot just for you, oh holy chairman?’”

“Because, you patronizing ass,” Dr. Jung steps forward, grabs Dr. Kim’s hand in the air, and pulls it down to his side, forcing Dr. Kim to step closer. Jaehyun stays wide eyed where he is, deciding that it’s safer. “He was going to kill you.”

“He was bluffing.” Dr. Kim tries to look anywhere but at the doctor’s face directly in front of him. “Don’t pretend. In any case, you wouldn’t have been able to build another droid like him without my help.”

“Is that what this is about, then?” Dr. Jung grips harder around Dr. Kim’s hand, causing the doctor to wince. “Not that I was about to sell out what you stood for, but that _you’ll_ be out of the picture?” Dr. Jung grins, and a vulnerability returns. “You can’t imagine working without me anymore, can you?”

“Preposterous.” Sensing the sudden lax hold, Dr. Kim takes the opportunity to free himself and promptly walks backward until he bumps into Jungwoo.

Amused, Jungwoo holds Dr. Kim by the hips as he looks between the two doctors. “About Jaehyun, then?”

“Right! Jaehyun.” Dr. Kim exhales as he claps his hands.

Jungwoo nods, returning to seriousness. “I’ve remotely accessed his internal activity and compared it to the snapshot history from his first day. Based on his electrical signals, I make out that ATCH released from the pituitary in conjunction with glucocorticoid from the adrenal, which affected the central sites of the hippocampus—”

“Jungwoo, I love you but you know I’m not a bioengineer,” Dr. Kim says, holding his temples with his fingers. “In simple terms, please.”

“Trauma,” Dr. Jung answers for him with a grimace. He turns his head to look behind him, and Jaehyun shifts even more to the other side while keeping a firm hold on the back of the doctor’s shirt. “By the looks of it, he’s lost most of his memory, including the ones we created him with. Essentially, he’s become like a small child afraid for his life.”

Doyoung has the sensation of invisible bile rising up from his core.

Dr. Kim only speaks after some silence. “What can we do? Reboot his system entirely?”

“I don’t know if a system reboot is even a possibility for a biodroid like him,” Dr. Jung says. “I just don’t know.” He throws his hands up in exasperation. “This is all new territory, and I can’t be sure of anything unless we run simulated tests first.”

Doyoung is already struggling to stand up and Dr. Kim firmly pushes him back down. “No, you’re not gonna go up there like this.”

The synthetic biologist’s machinery are the only tools that can perform the simulated tests. The first set was blown up with the lab, and the remaining ones are all up in the Talos laboratories, where the situation is growing more volatile by the moment. Doyoung stops struggling soon enough, still low in power to put up a fight. He glares at Dr. Kim. “We can’t continue to keep him hurting.”

“I know.” Dr. Kim is sympathetic. “But I can’t have you hurt again, either.” 

“How long do we wait before we do something, then?” Doyoung presses. “We have no idea what’s to come of this rebellion.” 

“Hold on.” Dr. Jung looks around the kitchen, filled with machinery. “We can take some risks. If we’re okay with that, we can try to do with what we have. Taeyong,” he asks the droid who had been silent all this time, following their conversation. “Do you have any kind of cybernetic implantation device?”

Taeyong’s brows raise in surprise. “Of course. It’s in storage, but give me a moment and I’ll have it out and running.”

“Perfect.” 

“You’re not thinking gap fixes?” Dr. Kim asks. “On a _biological_ brain?”

“That’s precisely what I’m thinking.” Dr. Jung bites his lower lip. “I’m assuming you’ve done it before on droids?”

“I mean, yes, a long time ago. But I don’t condone it. Manipulating a droid’s memory has always been a last resort kind of operation in my lab.”

“But you _do_ consider this to be a last resort?”

Dr. Kim looks at Doyoung, worry lines etching his forehead. “Are you sure we don’t want to just wait it out? We can always help Jaehyun other ways to accumulate him, like therapy, or medication-”

“If we can get rid of his pain faster, then why not?”

“It’s a big risk we’ll be taking, Doyoung,” Dr. Jung says. “Jaehyun’s not built for trauma of this magnitude. But he also isn’t a chrome droid we can reboot without repercussions.”

Dr. Kim nods. “Memories are fickle, and we can never select them with pinpoint accuracy. In wiping away his trauma, I could end up wiping more of him, maybe too much of him. We could end up with someone entirely different. In saving him, we might have to say goodbye to the person we knew.”

Doyoung thinks for a moment. “But he’ll still be alive, then? He’ll be happy?”

“Well,” Dr. Kim starts, fiddling with his sleeve. “When I’ve done this procedure with droids, I’ve always had a 100% success rate.” 

“But since it deals with a biological brain,” Dr. Jung adds. “It’s honestly a shot in the dark.”

In a small voice, Doyoung asks, “What would you guys do, if this happened to someone you love?”

Realization hits Dr. Jung first, who immediately asks Doyoung, “We need the memory disk. Do you have it with you?” 

Doyoung fishes it out from his inner chest cavity, where it’s been under the watchful eyes of the polaroid photo, and carefully gives it to the doctor.

“Hold on—” Dr. Kim starts. He stares at Doyoung in awe. "You can _love_?"

"You know," Dr. Jung says over his shoulder as he navigates to where Taeyong is setting up the system. "For a scientist specializing in emotional realism, you are _so_ dense." 

"Fuck off, alright? I just didn’t think he could evolve beyond my primary operations."

Dr. Jung throws him a withering glance. “You’re the world’s leading AI software developer. Probably the best that I know.”

“Probably?”

“Oh, _now_ you choose to pay attention?” To which Dr. Kim scowls. “Anyway, it’s kind of ridiculous for you, of all people, to question your own droid’s evolution.”

“It’s called humility.” 

Dr. Jung blankly stares. He eventually reverts to the task at hand, turning back to the machine. 

While Dr. Kim mutters to himself something about dependency exclusions and parent inheritance, Doyoung thinks about the term, love. _Can_ he really experience such an abstraction? He had only thrown the word out there to signify an urgency that the doctors would understand. In reality, he's been wrestling with labeling his feelings since the day he had broken into Dr. Jung's office. To Doyoung, love refuses to be pinned down and labelled. He imagines it to be something that's all at once too broad and too intangible to define as easily as other emotions.

After all, Jaehyun isn’t the only person Doyoung would put himself in harm’s way for. He’s developed a fierce attachment towards his droid friends over his existence. They seek out each other’s company, again and again in Taeyong’s cafe, Doyoung’s home away from home, sharing their happiness and their worries and their fears. These friends weren’t specifically built for each other’s companionship. But they chose each other, somehow through a mutual, unspoken contract of trust. And would any of them ever disappear, Doyoung would feel an aching gap in their absence that nobody else could quite fill. Isn’t that also a kind of love? 

And, of course, in the realm of the human race, he’s been partial towards Dr. Kim since his inception. Beyond the aspect of a creator-creation relationship, he’s always felt a sense of mutual respect with the doctor. There’s banter in their interactions, but there’s also an underlying care and concern and — dare Doyoung says it — love, more often expressed through action than words. The doctor has always regarded Doyoung as a separate, independent being with his own agency, giving him complete freedom to leave their contract, if the droid ever decides so. But Doyoung would be a fool to ever leave the doctor. Can’t their feelings also be summarized in those four letters, too? 

  
  
  


He comes to a conclusion just as they begin to reset Jaehyun’s memories. 

“Do you want to hold my hand?” Dr. Jung’s voice is soothing as he offers it to a perpetually terrified Jaehyun, who had shrunk into a corner while the rest of the proceedings happened. “It hurts a lot, doesn’t it?” 

“Shouldn’t we have him reclined somewhere?” Dr. Kim asks, worry evident in his tone as he looks up from the implantation device. “He could collapse.”

The cyberneticians have both situated themselves next to Dr. Kim, where they’ve wired it up to additional monitors. Jungwoo has his brows furrowed and eyes glued to the screens. Taeyong remains calm, but Doyoung can tell his mind is remotely processing a thousand different programs to test the machine quality. 

“What do you propose?” Dr. Jung asks just as Jaehyun extends his arm and grabs onto the doctor’s pointer finger, but still stubbornly stands his ground. “He’s barely comfortable enough as it is. I’m not using force to drag him up there.”

“Can you try to convince him?” Dr. Kim pleads.

Dr. Jung takes a deep breath and turns to the droid. “Hey, Jaehyun?” He speaks in a delicate voice. Doyoung gently hops off the operation table, making Jaehyun even more alert. Doyoung pats the table behind him as Dr. Jung asks, “Can you lie down over there?”

Jaehyun looks back at where Doyoung stands, in between himself and the table. 

And Jaehyun _pouts_. 

Now, Doyoung should know not to deter from the gravity of the moment. He ought to know he should technically feel rather hurt that Jaehyun only inches forward once Doyoung steps back, away from the table and maintains his distance before Jaehyun takes his place. But despite all the shoulds and ought-to’s, Jaehyun will never cease to short-circuit Doyoung into a feeling of giddiness and expansive warmth that surrounds his everything and captures him whole. 

No matter how Jaehyun feels towards Doyoung, whether he’s curious or interested or delighted, or if he’s upset or angry or annoyed, Doyoung will always be left enamoured. And it doesn’t matter if Doyoung’s feelings aren’t reciprocated, that doesn’t lessen the intensity of his feelings in any way. See, Doyoung never put himself into the equation of this feeling. It was always about Jaehyun, and only Jaehyun. It’s a feeling that Doyoung has come to hold close to his core, because a feeling that’s his, and his alone. That’s the beauty of it. It doesn’t matter if Jaehyun will never open himself to Doyoung after his memories are erased. 

Because if it’s Jaehyun, and if it’s love (or whatever the hell it’s called), then Doyoung can fall over and over again. 

  
  
  


They don’t think the gap fix works, until it does.

Jaehyun still has a tight grip on Dr. Jung’s hand as he lies still, his skin on his knuckles stretched thin to expose the white and pink underneath. On one of the screens, Jungwoo follows a tiny blue blip traveling through the droid’s brain with bated breath. Taeyong blinks, and the motion zooms the screen further into the cerebellum at a molecular level where the brain is seen as a densely packed, teeming electrical highway system of currents. 

Dr. Kim types a few commands and pauses as the program executes, fingers shaking as they hover in midair. The blip flashes white, and in an instant, it has disappeared, having been absorbed into its environment. Then, nothing. The cyberneticians quickly scan the ongoing logs and then look down at Jaehyun, waiting.

Time freezes, and for a good minute there is complete silence in the room. 

And then Jaehyun’s grip on Dr. Jung’s hand goes slack. The screen beep with warning messages, and several gasps happen in unison, accompanied by furious typing sounds. Minutes tick by, and then— 

Jaehyun opens his eyes and the first person he sees is Dr. Jung. The droid’s forehead creases are gone, and instead he looks up blankly at the doctor with only mild curiosity.

“Jaehyun?” Dr. Jung tentatively asks.

“Jaehyun,” the droid repeats, as if tasting the name for the first time. He sits up and swings his legs over to the side of the table without hesitation, surprising everyone. For a moment, he examines his body, from the way his feet lightly swing above the floor to feel of the cool metal under his hands. He looks back at Dr. Jung, cocking his head in casual observation, before shifting his gaze to the others in the room. It could be Doyoung’s imagination, but Jaehyun’s eyes seem to rest a fraction of a second longer on him before they move away.

“Synaptic discharges have decreased significantly,” Taeyong notes.

“His HPA axis activity is stable.” Jungwoo glances at Dr. Kim with a grin. “That means there’s no longer any sign of traumatic stress. Looks like your net was cast wide enough, doc.”

“Oh, thank god.” Dr. Kim heaves a sigh, walking backward until he leans his weight against a counter. “I’m never doing that again.”

Dr. Jung is also at a loss at the sheer miracle in front of them. He nods at Jaehyun, who had jumped down from the table and is now standing. “I’m Dr. Jung, one of your designers.” 

As the others come up to introduce themselves, Doyoung exhales in his own way, his springs uncoiling from tension. He prepares himself for all the groundwork he’ll have to establish: Jaehyun might no longer be the free and vulnerable version he was before. Doyoung sifts through his internal system where he has catalogued Jaehyun’s every word and emotion, and vows to try his hardest to teach Jaehyun how to be, and live in the way he’s only seen Jaehyun live. Doyoung’s own emotional void be damned, he will pour out his feelings and exist with all he’s capable of, loudly and freely, if only to help Jaehyun regain his own life.

So when it’s his turn, Doyoung walks around and holds out his hand with a smile as wide as the space Jaehyun takes in his metaphorical heart. “Hi, Jaehyun. I’m Doyoung.”

Jaehyun flickers between Doyoung’s outstretched hand and his face, and he pauses for a second before capturing his hand with his own and smiles back in his own tiny way, lighting up his eyes with just a bit more light than he’s shown the others. 

Doyoung can get used to this Jaehyun, too, he thinks, just before—

“Why the reintroduction?” Jaehyun asks, puzzled. He quickly withdraws his hand, but his expression is still muted, emotionally quieter than he’s been before all of this.

Doyoung tries to understand. “You still remember me?” 

“Of course. I could never forget you.” Jaehyun's faint smile is relaxed, as if he’s simply mentioning how the sky is blue or ice is cold. 

Doyoung thinks back to Dr. Jung’s explanation of the disk’s data that reset Jaehyun’s memories. It should’ve only had whatever was critical to the droid’s core functionalities. To have the memories of Doyoung take precedence over Jaehyun’s emotional capabilities seem blasphemous, and somehow Doyoung feels guilty again. “Why? Because I asked you to stay with me?”

Jaehyun’s brow furrows only a fraction of an inch, his nose crinkles a tad, and the corner of his mouth dips just so. His reactions are consistently subdued, but it doesn’t make him any less breathtaking, Doyoung thinks. “Because you’re important to me.”

"But _why_?" Doyoung repeats like a petulant child who isn't satisfied with a single answer. "I'm not important."

“I found you in the center of my emotional cluster. There's nothing else more important than you."

"Oh," is all Doyoung can say.

Because then his core swells and swells and he’s smiling, despite him biting down his lip. It’s the culmination of those very feelings that have crept up within him with every thought of Jaehyun, and to finally hear it being reciprocated, he hears a faint click of gears locking in place, of questions resolved.

And after that, Doyoung doesn't really care if he can never experience love, whatever that means, because language has limitations and because his bond with Jaehyun is unmatched in the whole universe.

  
  


↭

  
  
  


“You know, I’m kind of bummed you were so quick to action back there.”

“What do you mean?” Dr. Jung glances across the table. 

The group has reestablished themselves into the cafe’s main seating area, taking up a couple of tables interspersed between droids. Every once in a while, the walls and floors vibrate from the explosions above, and the cafe’s patrons brace themselves. Occasional shouts can be heard, quietened by the thick glass separating them from the outside world.

“Like when Doyoung asked what you’d do if you were him.” Dr. Kim shrugs, tracing a finger on the charging device inbuilt to the furniture in front of them. “The right answer would’ve been to kill me. We’re not droids, you know? I don’t have my core personality or whatever stored up somewhere if I need to get rebooted. I won’t even be _me_ anymore. You should be mourning my death by that point.”

Dr. Jung pushes his glasses up. “Why do you assume you’re the person I imagined?”

“Oh come on, it’s _so_ obvious.” Dr. Kim gloats. “You love me.”

Instead of the usual snapback, Dr. Jung stays silent this time. There’s not a trace of amusement in his face. Instead, the look he gives is mixed with a painful wish unfulfilled, one that he’s come to quietly accept as reality. 

“What?” Dr. Kim straightens up, concerned. “What is it?” 

“I’m tired. Let me just take Jaehyun and go home. I’ll get out of your hair for good.”

“I won’t let you go.” Dr. Kim quickly bites his tongue after those words escape his mouth. “I mean, with Jaehyun. He stays with me.” He ends by puffing up his chest, adamant with a gleam of jest.

“Fine. I’ll leave then.” Dr. Jung stands up.

Dr. Kim deflates immediately, scrambling to his feet. “That’s it? You’re not even gonna put up a fight?”

“Then what?” Dr. Jung rounds up on Dr. Kim. “What do you want me to do?”

“There’s a rebellion out there!” Dr. Kim gestures at the windows as he automatically takes a step back. “And Telos? Hearing the shitstorm above us, they’re about to be done for. You might not even have a job anymore once you go back up there.”

“So I’ll figure something out. What is it to you?”

“Nothing,” Dr. Kim relinquishes his stand, looking down. “Do whatever then, I don’t care.”

Dr. Jung stares long and hard before breaking into clipped laughter. “You’re still going to lie until the very end, huh?”

“Pfft, lie?” Dr. Kim is comically slack-jawed. “I mean, I’ll have you know that I’m a phenomenal actor. But this? It’s the total and complete truth.”

“Nonsense.” Dr. Jung’s smile is regretful. “You’ve always been a terrible liar.” He walks up to the cafe’s entrance and turns back again one last time. “I honestly, truly hope I’ll never see you again, Dongyoung.” And with that, he pushes the pneumatic door open and then he’s gone, leaving Dr. Kim staring at the door slowly come back to a close.

Not a moment later, a nearby explosion shakes the building’s foundation. 

“No,” Dr. Kim whispers. And then he finds himself following Dr. Jung’s footsteps out the door, despite the shouts from within the cafe calling for him to stay inside. 

He barely takes in the falling debris or the people running about for shelter as he wildly looks around for a glimpse of the other doctor. He breaks into a blind run, calling out Dr. Jung’s name quietly at first, and then louder and more insistent as they turn into shouts. Heavy smoke has set in the air, making him choke as he inhales too much of it. His eyes tear up, from the fumes or from something else, he doesn’t have time to think. He spins around wildly and runs another direction, his vision obscured and a faint ringing in his ears that is brought by another explosion from above. He keeps running, tears flowing down his cheeks, screaming for Dr. Jung.

Something grabs his arm, and he finds himself jerking backwards as he pivots around that grasp. He tries twisting his arm away, eyes still blurry and unfocused, but he’s pulled off the streets and under a safe shade, a rigid canopy of an abandoned bus station.

“What,” Dr. Jung says between gasps for air through his shirt over his mouth, bent over at the waist as he tries to catch his breath. “The _hell_. Why do you run so fast?”

“You idiot,” Dr. Kim angrily wipes his face before throwing him a glare. “I told you, we’re in the middle of a rebellion. Couldn’t you have stayed in the cafe for a bit longer?” And then, quieter, he mumbles. “You could’ve gotten hurt.”

“I already have,” Dr. Jung says, and when Dr. Kim’s eyes widen and travel down his body, looking for wounds, Dr. Jung pats his chest. 

“You are fucking _revolting_. I’m being serious.”

“So am I.”

“Damn it, will you shut up and listen to me—”

“Will you listen to _me_?” Dr. Jung holds Dr. Kim by the shoulders, silencing him. “I just can’t stay around you any longer. I'm sorry, but it hurts, Dongyoung. Every second I’m with you, it hurts.”

Dr. Kim squirms away from Dr. Jung’s grip. “I told you, there’s nothing between us. We were just professional colleagues, and now,” the doctor scoffs. “We’re not even that.”

Dr. Jung tilts his head back to rest against the panel behind him. He closes his eyes and he looks so damn _tired_ that Dr. Kim wishes to shake him. Dr. Jung swallows before saying, very faintly, “Why are you pretending?”

Dr. Kim opens his mouth to retort something short and snappy. But seeing the doctor in all of his exhaustion, Dr. Kim thinks the better of it. He takes a step closer to be heard, his head ducked low as he fiddles with the hem of his coat. “You have a privileged life, Dr. Jung. It’s perfect, and you’re also, well...” 

Dr. Kim’s gaze trails up to see Dr. Jung’s face, with eyes now open and lidded slightly as they follow him.

Dr. Kim ducks back down, clearing his throat as he continues. “But add me into the mix, and your life ends up fucked, you know? Like, it happened once already, years ago, when I was a selfish jackass and thought we could’ve had a relationship and not have it almost ruin you.” Dr. Kim takes a deep breath and dares himself to make eye contact with Dr. Jung. “I just don’t want you losing anything because of me.”

“Well, your plan backfired.” There’s a lump in Dr. Jung’s throat. “I’m lost without you.”

“Don’t say that. You’re stronger than that.” 

“I sound weak, don’t I? But I need you. And I thought this project could help me find my way back to you. But it’s impossible to do that if your door stays closed.”

“Oh, believe me, you don’t want to come inside.” Dr. Kim brushes the thought aside with chopped laughter. He adds, seriously again. “I enjoyed working with you, Dr. Jung. As a colleague,” he adds, emphasizing the term. “It made me so damn happy, I don’t think I’ve been that happy in years, to be building the world’s next biggest breakthrough together, with you by my side. Who can compare to us? With your skills, and my charisma—” Dr. Jung rolls his eyes with a smile, and Dr. Kim returns the smile. “We’re a kickass team, aren’t we?”

“Eh,” Dr. Jung wrinkles his nose, incidentally moving his glasses up and down. “Maybe if we ever decided on the lead scientist.”

“Oh, fine, I acquiesce,” Dr. Kim groans, laughing. “We can share the title. See? We can totally make it work within the professional boundaries.”

“Can we, Dongyoung?” Dr. Jung shifts his weight forward so he’s no longer against the panel. His face leans into Dr. Kim’s, and before the other can back away, Dr. Jung’s hand slides upward and softly catches Dr. Kim’s jawline, his thumb stroking the doctor’s skin. Dr. Kim’s breath catches and his eyes flutter half-shut. His lips part, and Dr. Jung brings his own lips until they’re a hair’s width away from Dr. Kim’s. When he speaks, their lips brush past each other and Dr. Kim has to do all he can to not close the gap entirely. 

“You may be strong enough to hold off forever.” Dr. Jung leans back, leaving Dr. Kim dazed. “But I’m not. I’m sorry, Dongyoung.”

Regaining his senses, Dr. Kim lets out a huff and clutches at Dr. Jung’s hips, fingers hooking through the belt loops and slowly pulls himself in. His lips meet Dr. Jung’s. This time, there's more of a delay in his actions than he had with their last kiss. A deep longing bubbles up to the surface, the one he’s tucked hidden away for hours, for years. His hands slide into Dr. Jung’s hair, gently and with care and devotion, like the other could dissolve if he's too rough. He freezes just as his brain catches up with his body, jerking his head back but still hovering inches away. 

Dr. Kim whispers, barely audible. “What if you get hurt because of me?”

Dr. Jung exhales a laugh, and his breath bounces against the proximity of Dr. Jung’s face and briefly fogs up his own glasses. “Look around you. The world’s falling apart. And you put yourself in danger to run out here. For _me_. If I get hurt, I can guarantee it won’t be because of you.”

“Oh, shut _up_ with all the flattery.” Dr. Kim kisses through Dr. Jung’s laugh, low and resonant. He pauses again. “But what if I can’t protect you when…” 

Dr. Kim’s words are swallowed up when it becomes Dr. Jung’s turn to shut him up, with his hot breath puffing up against delicate skin on Dr. Kim’s neck. The heat is chased by the lick of a tongue, and then teeth. Dr. Kim gives a guttural moan as he tightens the hold on Dr. Jung’s hair. Dr. Jung mumbles into Dr. Kim’s neck between his onslaught. “Don’t,” _lick_ , “need,” _lick_ , “protection,” _kiss_ , “I’m,” _kiss_ , “not,” _kiss_ , “a _child_.” The last word is punctuated with a particularly deep bite, making Dr. Kim gasp as he tears up, curling into Dr. Jung as one hand tightens their embrace. 

Explosions continue overhead, and shots ring through the empty streets, with the smog throwing a dark, heated blanket over the two lone humans out in the streets. 

It’s only when they start to feel light-headed from the fumes that they break apart. Dr. Kim’s legs are wobbly, and he has to hold onto Dr. Jung to stay upright. He runs a hand through his hair, and it’s even more unruly than it is in normal situations. From Dr. Kim’s view, Dr. Jung looks well-spent. Beads of perspiration are all over Dr. Jung’s body, smeared in places where Dr. Kim couldn’t keep his hands off, which was essentially everywhere. Their coats have been cast aside and their shirts are half tucked out and falling off their shoulders. 

“We should head back to the cafe,” Dr. Kim says, fishing Dr. Jung’s hand and holding it tightly.

Dr. Jung surveys Dr. Kim’s face, from his pink-stained lips to the tear-streaked cheeks to his eyes, dark and wide and wanting. “We, as in? Who are we, Dongyoung?”

To which Dr. Kim leans in again and gives a smacking kiss on top of the doctor’s lips, rousing another wash of heat through Dr. Jung’s body. Dr. Kim squeezes Dr. Jung’s hand. “We as in _us_. I want you, fuck, I _need_ you, so much. Please.” 

Those words somehow do even more damage to Dr. Jung’s butterflies than the kiss. Or it could be the chemicals getting to his head, he can’t be too sure. He tilts his head forward, and Dr. Kim leans his forehead against his own. Dr. Jung smiles through the warm haze. “The truth is finally revealed.” 

“Hold on, before we get any further, though. I’m not living in Crème again.”

Dr. Jung laughs. “But your place in the Dredges is barely big enough to fit both you and Doyoung.” 

“Nevermind, then. We’ll meet at a middle ground.”

“Fair enough.”

A moment of silence stretches between them, and the sounds of the rebellion fade into nothingness.

“But what if,” Dr. Kim whispers, peeking his eyes open to see Dr. Jung’s closed. “If we end up hurting each other? Aren’t we gambling?”

“I’d take these odds.”

  
  


↭

  
  
  
  


While the Jaehyun of the past was made up of vibrant colors, the Jaehyun today is in soft pastels. Different, certainly, Doyoung thinks, both beautiful in their own right.

The doctors search for a new location to rebuild the lab. As they do, the droids follow them from place to place, being privy to the human pair’s secret smiles and stolen kisses. They don’t need to keep their love hushed anymore, they never did, really. But it delights them to believe that they could get caught, and the feeling of danger exhilarates them all the more. Up ahead, within a vast and empty warehouse, Dr. Kim surprises Dr. Jung from behind, wrapping an arm around his waist, giggling and slightly out of breath.

“So.” Dr. Kim slowly takes in the other doctor’s faint musky cologne as he looks over his shoulder, and shares a feeling of joy that Doyoung had yet to see in the doctor outside of a particular framed photo. “What do you think about the place?”

Dr. Jung clicks his tongue against his cheek. “Mine’s better.”

“Oh for the last time, we are _not_ having this discussion again. Your house in Crème is off-limits.”

To which Dr. Jung turns his head and forms the most convincing puppy eyes. “But why not?”

“Stop that! I won’t be swayed!” But Dr. Kim’s words are playful. He sighs and says, “I told you, I won’t be accepting handouts.”

“Because you'd rather steal them.”

“Correction, I'd rather work for them.”

“Oh yeah?” Dr. Jung leans his face in and closes his eyes. “Show me what you’ve got, then.”

Dr. Kim laughs again, and the sound echoes around the vast interior. “You're such a _child_ ,” he says, before going in for a kiss.

It’s usually around this time that Doyoung chooses to look away, as the doctors progress to a more physical display of love that Doyoung has neither interest nor involvement in. This time is no different, either.

But to his side, Jaehyun continues staring. Doyoung notices slightly flushed cheeks and his mouth agape, until the pink of a tongue sticks out to lick his lower lip before biting his mouth close. Doyoung had almost forgotten that the doctors didn’t hold back with providing the biodroid their full emotional and chemical range of human feelings. He nudges Jaehyun. “It’s rude to stare.”

Jaehyun quickly averts his eyes, his dazed expression now replaced with a small scowl for being teased. Doyoung smiles at Jaehyun’s display of petulance, however masked. “Why did Dr. Kim call Dr. Jung a child just then?”

Doyoung blinks, surprised at the question. “Human adults call each other children when they exhibit reckless behavior without thought.”

“But no behavior can be done without thought.”

“I stand corrected.” Doyoung says, bemused. “It’s a term when their emotions and their actions have no filter. They act on what they feel.”

“Ah.”

Doyoung then turns to walk further down the warehouse to inspect the perimeter, and Jaehyun quickly follows suit, matching in his footsteps. Doyoung feels his company and glows on the inside. He would be lying to himself if he said he didn’t feel some sort of way to Jaehyun’s devoted adherence. Jaehyun didn’t have the memories of Doyoung, not from before in the Dredges, nor up in Crème. It amazes Doyoung at how much trust Jaehyun has put in his former self’s priorities, then. Amazes and scares Doyoung, too. And he wonders if he could hold up to that trust.

“It must be freeing.” Jaehyun says, after some time. “To think for the moment, to exist here and now. I think I would take being called a child as a compliment, then.”

“What do you know,” Doyoung grins, pausing his scan of irregularities in the building foundation. “Human children have it all figured out.”

“What do you know,” Jaehyun repeats the new phrase as he grins back, his eyes whiskers pronounced and holding Doyoung’s nonexistent heart captive in its folds.

They exit the warehouse. It’s in the afternoon of a clear and sunny day, or if one’s in the Dredges, just another grey day. But the air is a little less murky than usual, with the residue from the explosions and the falling debris having settled down days earlier. Droids bustle about as if nothing in their lives changed, because nothing truly did, for many of them.

Revolutions don’t end in a single day. The world didn’t suddenly wake up after the undisclosed rebels overthrew Telos Industries. Class distinctions didn’t erase overnight. And the industry didn’t decide the next day to take the moral high ground and legalize underground hospitals, or rewrite the human-droid contract standards. None of it happens, because this is reality, and change takes time. The relentless fight of the rebels couldn’t immediately topple a sprawling empire, not when it has become so intertwined with the very fabric of human society. 

But it did, however, change the lives of a few. And it would slowly become the inspiration for the fight to continue, so that one day, the masses stand up for a better world for all. 

For now, though, Doyoung feels as if he’s quite possibly the luckiest droid in the world. 

The two droids stand at the end of a road, side by side, looking up at the grey skies. Faint wisps of clouds stay stoic, and above those is a shimmering sea, darkened but not dimmed and brimming with the promise of a light just beyond.

Doyoung brings his hand up to touch Jaehyun’s resting at his side, his fingers lighting skimming over the terribly human skin. He reads Jaehyun’s face when he asks, “Do you feel this?”

“I do,” Jaehyun says, confused. “I feel you touching me.”

“Ah.” Doyoung withdraws and stares at his hand before looking back at Jaehyun. “Is that all you feel?”

“No.” Jaehyun hesitantly mirrors Doyoung’s movements, his hand lightly brushing against Doyoung’s own, and then retreats. Cautious, ever so cautious.

Doyoung wasn’t built to feel love, at least not in the way that Jaehyun feels. He hopes that it’s okay. Or maybe it isn’t. Maybe Jaehyun is worth more than Doyoung could ever provide. Once upon a time, Doyoung used to feel an emptiness inside of him. He then named the feeling: He was lonely. But now, he’s so full that he’s nearly ripping at the seams, and all he wishes is to share that feeling with the person he let in. He only hopes they enjoy his company. His mouth trembles just slightly as he speaks, but it doesn’t go unnoticed. “Do you accept me with all my missing pieces?”

“There’s nothing you’re missing.” Jaehyun’s voice is harsher than Doyoung’s heard, and he looks back in alarm to see Jaehyun breathing a little heavier, air flaring out his nostrils as he _glares_ at Doyoung. “You’re not missing anything,” he repeats, his voice having softened and his eyes following suit. “We're all built differently, aren’t we? How terribly boring the world would be if we all looked and thought and felt the same emotions in the same way.”

“I’d give you my heart,” Doyoung blurts out, and then reddens. “If I had one.”

“That’s silly.” Jaehyun laughs, and it’s a quiet rumble, warm and endearing and it shakes the bedrock under Doyoung’s feet. “Even I know enough to say that one’s heart is just another word for one’s love.”

“I’d give you that, too, if I could.” Doyoung’s eyes are wide and insist on staying open, in case Jaehyun leaves again in a blink. “I’d give you anything you ask.”

“I won’t ask for anything.” Jaehyun’s smile is so tender and so incredibly heart-wrenching, it leaves Doyoung senseless. “You keep your heart and I keep mine.”

“Then don’t ask.” Doyoung takes Jaehyun’s hand in his and brings it up to cup his own cheek. “Let’s be children. Whatever we feel, we do.”

When Jaehyun’s fingers meet the synthetic skin, he’s wide-eyed, surprised at first. Doyoung lets go of Jaehyun’s hand, allowing him to explore on his own. His fingers trace Doyoung’s forehead, over his closed eyelids, down the contour of his nose, and dips into his cheeks.

And then he smiles in open bliss, emotions raw and pure, and Doyoung swears he can see the Jaehyun he had known before, just tucked away into a corner and only needing gentle coaxing before he can spread his wings and soar. 

“What do you feel?” Doyoung asks.

“Like flying.” And this time, there’s no hesitancy in Jaehyun.

They cut through the air like it’s natural, like it’s the right thing to do. They fly, not to reminisce, nor for their future. But because they’re alive, here and now, as a blip in the cosmos but in contradictingly infinite spirits, too, beyond the limited realm of science, beyond what humans could ever measure.

  
  


↭

  
  


“Haechan wants to apologize to Dr. Jung, so I’m passing along the message.”

“Oh?” Jaehyun blinks. “Why?”

“Who knows,” Yuta shrugs, leaning back against the cafe chair. “Although I’m betting it’s because he and his rebel friends already found a way to demolish their new lair. It was a terrible idea, by the way, your doctor gifting his Creme penthouse to that demon.” 

“Haechan isn’t a demon,” Mark clarifies next to Yuta. “I do hope your glitches are resolved one day.”

“Glitches? And here I was, thinking my angel would never be mean to me.” Yuta sulks. “Et tu, brute?”

Mark pats Yuta’s back reassuringly. “I apologize for coming off as mean. But it’s certainly counterproductive for you to be putting on a different act when you’re not around Haechan.” 

Doyoung squints his eyes up at Yuta from across the table. “What does he mean, Yuta?”

“Nothing.” Doyoung steadily stares the droid down, and the latter eventually acquiesces. “Fine. Haechan didn’t exactly hire me as a housebot, alright? It was maybe sort of my decision.” 

“ _Your_ decision?” Doyoung blinks, incredulous. “So you don’t hate him?”

“Of course I do!” Yuta looks offended at the accusation, and then droops his shoulders. “It’s complicated, alright? He gets on my damn nerves but god, he’s actually out there fighting for us, you know? Haven’t you seen what the kid’s done already? Without him, Mark might not even…” He trails off. “Anyway, this is only the beginning of his plans. As fucking dangerous as some of his ideas are, he’s got a good head on those shoulders.” 

“Did you—” Doyoung gapes, and then yells across the cafe. “Taeyong! Did you hear that? Yuta actually _complimented_ Haechan.”

“It’s about time!” Taeyong yells back, grinning. 

Yuta turns around, indignant. “The fuck does that mean?”

“It means I could always see right through that act of yours.”

“Oh yeah? Well—” Failing to think up of a proper comeback, Yuta sighs and turns back to the table. “Moving on, then,” he says, already disinterested at the current topic. He props an elbow on the table and leans in, eyes dazzling. “So you’re the famous Jaehyun.”

Jaehyun widens his eyes, and then looks at Doyoung sitting beside him, who beams right back. “What do you mean famous?”

“He means someone at this table has never stopped talking about you,” Taeyong says as he walks up to them. He places a hand on Yuta’s shoulder and apologetically smiles at Jaehyun. “I’m sorry this cafe can’t provide any human sustenance.”

“That’s alright.” Jaehyun nods. “Doyoung’s stocked our house with plenty of food. I’m hardly ever hungry anymore,” he ends with a soft chuckle.

“ _Our_ house?” Taeyong raises a brow at Doyoung, grinning with that I-told-you-so look that makes Doyoung roll his eyes. “And you buy food now?”

“It’s only Dr. Kim’s old apartment, but it’s enough for us. I _procure_ food,” Doyoung clarifies. “It’s not like the markets up in Creme will tank in profits just because of me. In any case,” Doyoung pauses to gently lay his hand over Jaehyun’s on the table and squeezes it once. Physical sensations don’t evoke any emotional reactions in Doyoung. But he still chooses to show physical affection in the small ways, because he knows and adores the exact shade of the pretty pink that Jaehyun’s ears are currently turning without even needing to look at them. “Jaehyun only deserves the best.” 

“You’re so beautiful together, I’m gonna cry.” Yuta makes a scene of wiping away pretend tears as Taeyong lightly slaps his back. “Don’t forget us, Doyoung.”

“Don’t be dumb, how could I?” Doyoung shakes his head with a scoff. “In any case, you underestimate my abilities to love.”

“Is that what we’re calling it then?” Taeyong teases. 

“Human language will always have its limitations.” Doyoung wrinkles his nose. “But this label is close enough, even if it might not be entirely correct.”

“But who's to say your labels are correct?” Jaehyun asks Doyoung. “Nobody feels love in the same way as anyone else.”

Doyoung freezes. “Do you remember?”

Jaehyun is confused, and adorably so. “Remember what?”

“Nothing at all,” Doyoung laughs, turning Jaehyun's hand over and interlocks their fingers to leave Jaehyun flustered.

“Can we really do this?” Mark asks, looking between their clasped hands and their expressions. “I didn’t think most droids were programmed with the ability to feel love.”

Doyoung doesn’t fail to note the _we_ in Mark’s question, rather than a _you_. “We might not be able to, at first.” 

“And some might not be able to, ever,” Yuta quickly adds. “And that’s also okay.” 

Taeyong nods. “But our limitations are for us to decide, and not anybody else.”

“But wouldn’t we be less productive if we go against our original program? Wouldn’t our abilities lag?” Mark’s gears churn as he tries to process.

Jaehyun straightens up, attentive. “Whatever feeling you’re chasing, does it make you happy?”

Mark is equally wide-eyed when he shakes his head, and then, begrudgingly, nods.

“Then you better catch it quickly,” Jaehyun says. “After all, our abilities are at our best when we’re happiest, isn’t it?”

“Which abilities?”

“Our ability to be ourselves, of course! What greater ability do each of us have? Being yourself is absolutely the most productive thing you can do. Tell me, who else can live as Mark better than you?”

Realization dawns on Mark’s face ever so slowly. "Nobody. Thank you, Jaehyun."

“Damn it,” Yuta mumbles under his breath. “You better not steal my spot at being Mark’s favorite.”

Jaehyun grins, leaning in with a michevious glint. "Wanna bet?"

Yuta musters the closest thing he could to a scowl. "Hell _yeah_."

Doyoung snorts. "You two will get along great."

"They better," Taeyong grins. "Alright, I have to get back to work but,” he nods as he steps backwards. “Welcome to the family, Jaehyun.”

↭

They explore a small patch of an untouched oasis, secretly tucked away from the city. Doyoung's flown them there, and as far as he can tell, they're the only two walking beings around for miles.

Jaehyun pauses every few steps, intrigued by the wild weeds and the dung beetles and the birds cawing up in the air. The sun shines down, making his skin come to life, while the grass beneath Doyoung's soles feels fragile, like it's all terribly, terribly temporary and all the more precious. Out here, Doyoung can note the softest blue among the otherwise dull grey in the sky.

There's more color and light all around them than ever before, but to Doyoung, none of it matches Jaehyun's brilliant radiance.

"There!" Jaehyun startles Doyoung at his side as he tucks a small yellow wildflower behind Doyoung's ear. Doyoung's defensive instincts would’ve normally caught him approaching, but with Jaehyun, his defenses have always been down. Jaehyun smiles at Doyoung's reaction. "Pretty."

Doyoung looks at Jaehyun, with his rosy cheeks and windswept hair sticking out every which way and sweat trickling down his face, and wonders how Doyoung ever got to be this lucky. "Yes, you are."

"Hey, no return gifts!" Jaehyun wrinkles his nose in that way of his. He offers his hand, while turning to look at the path untraveled in front of them.

And Doyoung takes it, both the hand and whatever lies ahead, without wasting a moment's breath.

Doyoung lets himself be guided. Jaehyun tugs at his arm with each new sound or sighting. The sensations are new, as are the feelings they bring. Wind rustles the leaves of a nearby tree, perking his ears before he quickly looks at Doyoung, sharing the music in silent joy. He pricks his finger on a thorn, and the immediate wince makes Doyoung want to simultaneously burn down the forest and simply weep at the treasured reaction.  
  
They find a clearing. It's patch of ground at the forest edge, where the sky above is more visible.

Jaehyun lies down, against Doyoung's original protests. But he soon follows suit, and the two lie side by side as they stare up at the slowly passing clouds, letting their minds wander.

Nature is such a foreign thing to someone like Doyoung. He thinks about belonging, of love and the differences the concept means to the two of them. He wonders if Jaehyun can live his best life with Doyoung. Wonders if it's right of Doyoung to be happy, if perhaps Jaehyun could be happier without him.

"What if your memories were wiped away completely?" Doyoung asks after some time. "What if you had a choice to start over?"

Jaehyun hums at his side, drowsy from the heat. "Choice to start over what?"

Doyoung collects himself before responding, ready to expect anything. "Living. Loving."

"Silly." Jaehyun lifts up his head, only to knock against Doyoung's with a thud. It earns him a frown. "I still have a choice. And I choose you."

"But what if you never met me," Doyoung struggles. "If it wasn't me who was beside you when you first woke up. What kind of person would you choose?"

"Doyoung, I could be reset over and over again, and I'd still choose you."

"Even if I can never feel things the way you do?"

"Of course."

"How can you be so sure?"

"Because if I didn't, then I wouldn't be me anymore." 

"Not true." Doyoung's brows furrow. "You're your own person."

"Yes," Jaehyun muses. "But I wouldn't be the same person, would I? You bring the best out of me."

"Or maybe I don't."

"Then do I have flaws?"

"No, you're perfect," Doyoung quickly backtracks, to which Jaehyun smiles, pinking slightly. "But are you at your happiest?"

"We can chase superlatives forever."

Seconds tick by in comfortable silence.

"But I think I was built to love you," Jaehyun murmurs, drowsy and dazed. He faces Doyoung, earnest and true, and Doyoung feels a warm flurry run up through him. "And I wouldn't change a thing about it." 

Just like that, far away from the city and without a roof above or walls around, Doyoung is home.

**Author's Note:**

> if you've made it to the end, thank you for seeing my fic through!
> 
> i'd also like to thank the mods for making this ficfest possible. to my prompter, the premise was such a creative challenge! there were so many ways this fic could've manifested itself but i hope you enjoyed the result!
> 
> and to my friend, thank you for your patience in listening to me talking about writing this fic for way longer than i probably spent actually writing lol ♡


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